Good Company
by dodger-chan
Summary: Complete. Valentine's Day disturbances, confessions, romance, and angst.
1. chapter 1

Well, I wrote this story last year for some contest that never ended up happening. It's AU and, unlike most (all) of what I write, it actually has a plot. It is also finished. It should be seven parts long. Barring an unfortunate computer accident, I'll be updating this once a week.

Asato Tsuzuki picked up the folder that had been carelessly dumped on his desk. Another child reduced to so much paperwork for ease of classification and disposal. Another intrusion on his waning time. He sighed. He knew he wouldn't feel that way by the time he was halfway through the file. Within the file was another human being whom society had failed to protect. A child he could only hope would allow him to try to help in some way, not that he could do much himself. He glanced through the file, skimming the most pertinent information from the text.

Name: Hisoka Kurosaki. Age: 15 years. Mother: Valerie Harper. Father: Nagare Kurosaki. Parents unmarried. Apparently, Kurosaki had brought his mistress and son to Japan with him when Hisoka was 5 and they had remained there until Hisoka was 14. At which point Hisoka returned to the States to be locked in a closet for a year, his only visitors being his mother to provide food and the demonologist/pervert Dr. Kazutaka Muraki.

Locked in a closet for a year?

The mother had arranged for the doctor's visits in the hopes that he would drive out the demon she believed had possessed her son. The only demon possessing Hisoka had been the good doctor himself.

Disgusting. Freak of nature. Perversion. Freak.

He snapped the folder shut before reading anymore. His mouth had dried out, all the way down through the back of his throat. A void grew in the pit of his stomach. He checked his watch. The digital display flickered 12:15. As good a time as any for lunch.

"Asato," The voice of his supervisor always held the most flirtatious tone possible. He suppressed a shudder and tried to convince himself the man wasn't doing it on purpose. "You've got a visitor."

He turned around just barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. Eyes. Bright green eyes, almost bright enough to distract from his purple ones. But the eyes were not the only captivating aspect of the teenager. Short, slender, with effeminate features, he looked like another person from another life. It was a purely physical resemblance; the boy's defiant, masculine stance firmly separated him from the memory. He smiled at the boy. Though he hadn't looked at the picture in the file, there was only one person he could be.

"Hey, Hisoka. Have you eaten lunch yet? Why don't we go together?"

Need.

The force of the imposed feeling nearly knocked Hisoka over. It was too much. On top of having to stand with the creepy man with leering eyes and a dirty mind inadvertently subjecting him to ridiculously perverse imagery, he was bombarded with this great lack of... something.

"Asato" Lust dripped off the voice, forcing Hisoka to focus his attention elsewhere. Of course the Need drew his attention. The presence of the absence was in the man being called. His caseworker. "You've got a visitor."

The man of the void turned and Hisoka felt.

Need.

Recognition. Surprise.

Need.

Dismay. Sorrow. Guilt.

Need.

It took enormous effort for Hisoka to maintain his composure. He glared into the eyes of them man smiling at him. They disturbed him. Not because they were a vibrant shade of purple that shouldn't belong to any mere human. He barely noted their beauty. They were wrong because they betrayed no hint of the Need. The eyes of a person usually revealed something, but the purple orbs sparkled with friendliness.

"Hey, Hisoka. Have you eaten lunch yet? Why don't we go together?"

They were eyes meant only for deception.

"So, tell me about yourself." The hostile silence in the car forced him to prompt a conversation. It was odd that the silence should seem hostile. Beside him the boy sat, staring absently out the side window, lacking any visible anger.

"Doesn't the state provide you with information?" The words were challenging. A not so subtle attack from a teenager desperate to maintain the distance of apathy. He smiled, filing away thoughts of pity to wait until the boy wasn't around. Pity was the worst way to deal with teenagers.

"They put so many words in those files; I could hardly read one before lunch." The whiny tone startled the boy from his settled position. He turned to stare, confirming the fact that it was in fact an adult driving the car, not a four-year old. "Besides, they never tell any of the important stuff."

"Important stuff?" The boy sounded almost curious.

"You know, what type of music you like. What books you like to read. If you even like to read at all. Where you'd like to have lunch. Things like that."

"Oh." The boy resumed staring out the window. "Don't care."

The remainder of the ride passed in silence, not quite companionable, but no longer exactly hostile either.

Hisoka had no idea what to make of Tsuzuki. He had to call him Tsuzuki, of course. Honorifics such as "san" or even the American "Mister" didn't fit and even though invited to, he could not bring himself to call the man "Asato." That sort of familiarity implied a closeness that Hisoka wasn't comfortable with. So it had to be just Tsuzuki. Though even having a name to call him did not help Hisoka make sense of the man.

Hisoka had spent the car ride trying to read Tsuzuki's emotions.

Need.

The Need was the most powerful thing Tsuzuki felt. It overwhelmed, it over flowed. Yet it did not appear on the surface. Watching the man gave no indication that he was in desperate need, with the exception of a slight twitch of his right hand when the waitress had set down there drink orders. Hisoka had felt the Need spike, then recede as Tsuzuki drank the beer. So he was an alcoholic, it still didn't explain everything.

"Should you be drinking at lunch?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

Tsuzuki had winked at him! Hisoka had blushed, flustered at being invited to join in his conspiracy. The Need hadn't been sated during lunch, but Hisoka couldn't tell if it was because the Need was for more than alcohol or if Tsuzuki just hadn't drunk enough.

Guilt. Hate. Grief. Pain.

Logically, Hisoka had expected those emotions, but they still surprised him. Watching him eat, the boy could only marvel at how little of these feelings Tsuzuki showed. And then, there was something else. An odd combination of emotions Hisoka couldn't quite put a name to. If pressed, he might have called it maternal instinct. The desire to protect.

Such a mature, adult emotion occurring with equal strength as a childish eagerness to please.

"Who are you?" Hisoka blurted, interrupting some inane comment. Embarrassed at his rudeness, he blushed again. "I...I mean, you were given background on me, I should know something about you."

Confusion, realization, understanding.

"Well," Tsuzuki frown and tapped his fingers against his lip as he tried to think of a response. "I'm twenty-six years old. My favorite food is either apple pie or cinnamon rolls, I've never been able to pick. I live alone. I have no pets, but I have several plants with names and personalities. I did my junior year of college in Tokyo. My-"

"You lived in Japan? Do you speak Japanese?" Tsuzuki grinned at him and he found himself blushing again.

"It was necessary."

"Then could... can we speak it? I...I.... " Hisoka could feel the flush on his cheeks deepening. Damnit! He wasn't being rude, why was he embarrassed?

"Not a problem. I like hearing it, too." Tsuzuki switched languages and winked again. Hisoka was certain that every drop of blood in his veins had moved into his cheeks. "Just don't be too mean if I screw up on grammar. It's been a few years."

"Your accent isn't too bad." He managed to sound grudging, but it didn't deter Tsuzuki's reaction.

Elation.

"San kyu, Hisoka!"

He could almost see a tail wagging.

"Ne, Hisoka, won't you tell me about you now?" Hisoka didn't react to the question. "Not everything. Just one thing you don't mind sharing. Please?"

Concern. Interest.

"I like carrots."

Disappointment. Amusement. Admiration.

Admiration?

"I'm an empath." Hisoka sighed. He braced himself against the fear, the rejection, the partial withdrawal of emotions behind untested shields. It didn't happen.

The pain, grief, hate, guilt, and, to a certain extent, the Need were pulled back, leaving the feelings Hisoka would have expected of a man with Tsuzuki's eyes. Confused, Hisoka tried to reach for the vanished emotions and smacked into the strongest shield he'd ever encountered. The shock jarred his mind out of sync with the rest of him. His walls faltered. Feelings poured in, unchecked, pushing him towards blackness.

"Hisoka! Hisoka! Are you alright?" Tsuzuki grabbed his arm. Defenses rose to shove the contact away. Still slightly dazed, Hisoka could at least claim he was himself again.

"I'm fine." Angry with himself, he directed his glare at Tsuzuki. "You made my shields shift, that's all."

Even through both of their defenses, Hisoka could feel the concern radiating from the man. The worry. The fear. The fear was different. It wasn't a fear of him; it was a fear for him. Hisoka couldn't recall feeling that from another person before.

"You really are an empath, then? Not that I thought you were lying, but..." Tsuzuki shrugged, trying to find the right words. "It's like something on the Sci-Fi channel, ne? Reading people thoughts."

"Their emotions. I'm not a telepath." Hisoka almost smiled. Tsuzuki was such an accepting person, he could probably tell him more. He looked into Tsuzuki's eyes and any thought of a smile vanished. Tsuzuki was a deceiver. And deceivers are betrayers.

But nobody could deceive Hisoka.

Tsuzuki continued talking, but the conversation was over.


	2. chapter 2

Okay, various questions mean I need to do some explaining. Yes, this is completely AU. Tsuzuki doesn't 'remeber' Hisoka for any reason. Hisoka looks familiar because... well, that's explained in this chapter. Second, Hisoka is still an empath. Honestly, I just couldn't imagine his character without the empathy. As far as I know, no one really has that power, but people have claimed ridiculous things before and I'm sure continue to do so. Tsuzuki's job...sort of an idealized version of a children's services, social worker kinda thing. One who actually has time to get to know the kids he's supposed to be helping. Most of the names were left alone, but some were changed because it's set in America. Realistically, some people aren't going to be of Japanese descent. (just to avoid the confusion, I warn you now Tatsumi's name was changed to Terrance)

Two a.m. was really the ideal time for a walk. Really. There were no people, no foreign emotions, nothing to disturb his thoughts.

At the moment, Hisoka was searching for a crowded mall.

Normally, he'd never consider such places comforting, but the night - no, morning - was too quiet, too empty of others feelings for him to do anything but think. Think about the nightmare that had sent him on this early walk. Think about Muraki sensei's fingers tracing his spine. Think about the light pressure of Muraki sensei's lips. Think about every ounce of pleasure he'd experienced that creature feel, and how it had enjoyed more than anything the fact that Hisoka could feel it as well.

He really needed to find some company, any company.

His thoughts had led him on a rather confused path; far away from anyplace he could hope for comfort. Hisoka shivered. A cemetery was no place to be at two in the morning, especially if one wanted human contact. Hisoka needed some other emotions to drive his own away.

Guilt. Anger. Shame. Hate. Fear. Helplessness.

He needed something to block it all out.

In the silence, Hisoka heard a soft sobbing. It scared him, that he had failed to sense the other person. Still, he was drawn towards the sound with a sort of morbid curiosity. What sort of person would be in a cemetery at this hour?

The man sat against a tombstone, crying. His head was cradled in his hands, his eyes covered. Tears flowed from the gaps between his fingers and ran down his hands. A near ideal illustration of human misery.

Tsuzuki?

Feeling like an intruder, Hisoka backed away, but his feet stumbled on another stone, attracting Tsuzuki's attention.

"Hijiri?" Inhuman purple eyes, dull with alcohol yet still near impossibly bright, shifted as they tried to focus on him. "You're no' here...?"

"It's Hisoka." He felt the shields that weren't in place before arise and feelings he'd thought were his own hid behind them. At least he now knew how he'd failed to notice Tsuzuki.

"Sorry, Hisoka. Shoulda known it was you. Hijiri wouldn' be here." Hisoka felt no disappointment from Tsuzuki, but he dismissed it as a shielded emotion. Or at the very least, blocked by need and confusion. Tsuzuki frowned at him, recognizing the oddity of the situation for the first time. "Ano...what're you doin' here, 'Soka?"

"I was taking a walk." Hisoka felt himself blushing and was grateful for the early morning darkness. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting the dead." Tsuzuki gestured to the graves surrounding them. He was smiling and the tears had stopped, but Hisoka didn't think he looked any less miserable. In Hisoka's mind, the smile only made it worse.

"At two in the morning?"

"And they're not dead just 'cuz everyone's asleep?" Tsuzuki giggled. Hisoka's lips twitched, but he would not smile. As the giggling calmed, a still grinning Tsuzuki asked Hisoka, "Why were you walkin' at two in the morning?"

"Is the road not there just because no one's looking at it?" Tsuzuki laughed again.

"Well, tha's one theory. S'not like you could tell it wasn' there if you weren' looking."

"That's a stupid theory. Not thinking about something won't make it disappear."

"Why don't you try it, Hisoka?" A little of the tiredness Hisoka had been feeling from the man leaked into Tsuzuki's voice. "Don't think of me and maybe I'll disappear."

"Idiot!" For a moment, Hisoka had instinctively tried to follow the request, but found his mind could focus only on Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki's dark brown hair that fell into his eyes. Tsuzuki's hyper cheerfulness and bright smile. Tsuzuki's gorgeous, deceptive eyes. What the hell was he thinking? "You can't specifically not think of something. Try not thinking of an orange!"

"Wha'?" Tsuzuki concentrated visibly, wrinkling his forehead, a parody of some ancient philosopher. He laughed again. "Orange. Orange. Orange. Orange. You're right, I am an idiot."

They stayed in the cemetery in silence, Tsuzuki sitting, Hisoka leaning against one of the taller monuments. Time passed, but there was nothing to say, no place either of them wanted to go.

"Come on, Hisoka. I'll walk you back to your place."

"It's not my place."

"The house where you're staying, then? It's getting close to three, you should be in bed."

"I'm fine!" Hisoka snapped. He could feel the blood starting to rise in his cheeks and again thanked the darkness for its concealment.

"Didn't say you weren't fine, just that I'd walk you back."

Truthfully, Hisoka was in need of the escort. His trip to the graveyard had followed a rather haphazard path he wasn't sure he could retrace. Besides, it felt nicer to be with someone, far better than being alone. Even the drunken idiot was better company than his thoughts.

"So why were you walking out here, anyway?" Hisoka wished he could have bitten off whatever was the mental equivalent of a tongue. He'd thought too soon.

"So why were you in a cemetery at this hour?" Returning the challenge didn't make Hisoka feel any better. He could tell that his question had hurt Tsuzuki, but not why. Tsuzuki smiled at him anyway. Aside from the usual pain guilt and ever-present Need, Hisoka felt from him the same mix of amusement and admiration he'd noticed the first time they'd met. Such an unusual combination.

"My sister's buried there. I like visiting her when it's quiet." Tsuzuki looked at him expectantly. Hisoka scowled. He didn't have to tell Tsuzuki anything. He hadn't made any deals about exchanging information.

"I had a nightmare. I needed to get out for awhile."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Concern flooded the area.

"I see a shrink for that." Hisoka tried to put as much scorn on the word "shrink" as he felt, but failed miserably. As obvious as the contempt was, he showed far less then he wished. Tsuzuki didn't seem to pick up on it.

"It's good to have someone to talk to."

"Idiot." Hisoka was certain he'd said it, but could almost believe the word had never been verbalized. Tsuzuki's feelings reflected neither outrage nor insult. Not even disappointment at being held at such a low esteem. Tsuzuki merely shrugged, grinning at him, his emotions reading only acceptance and some resignation. Hisoka felt his innards twist with guilt, his own this time. It was odd, feeling a particular emotion after being used to reading it from someone else. Yet he had felt guilt earlier tonight. Guilt, pain and a Need that had been so powerful as to draw him along on his walk, leading him.

"Can you get inside?"

Hisoka woke from his reverie and noticed they had arrived. The graveyard had to have been closer than he'd thought. He knew he hadn't simply zoned out for much of the walk. Though Hisoka couldn't remember a cemetery close to his still-new residence.

"I can." Hisoka stepped behind the plants and tried to boost himself over the sill of his half-opened window. He just missed his first attempt. Jumping a second time, he felt Tsuzuki's hands around his waist, lifting him the extra centimeters. Hisoka slid under the window and turned around to see Tsuzuki's smiling face.

"Goodnight, Hisoka."

Hisoka slammed the window shut and spun back to face his room and hide his rising blush. He whispered the words under his breath in a vain attempt to keep them from his own ears.

"Goodnight, Tsuzuki."

Terrance Phillips stood regarding the figure before him and arrived at a judgment: pathetic. Wrinkled clothes he had come to expect, but these were yesterday's wrinkled clothes, clearly slept in. The hair was in an even greater state of disarray then usual. He found he simply had to lean over his friend and gently brush the hair back. His fingers ran through it easily.

"Lord Ruthven's been looking for you." Purple eyes rimmed with red widened in near panic. Lord Ruthven was the nickname of their supervisor.

"Shit." The exhalation carrying the word released the stench of stale alcohol. Terrance's nose twitched, but otherwise he gave no indication that he'd noticed.

"What happened to you, Asato?" Terrance wasn't completely sure he was referring to last night.

"I lost my keys. I couldn't get into my house or my car, so I had to sleep outside." Terrance didn't question his friend's story. It could have been true, but he knew there was no way he could tell. Asato was an accomplished liar, the most accomplished liar he'd ever met. He'd given up on separating the truth from lies years ago.

"You could have called me."

"At three-thirty in the morning?"

"Yes." A simple answer for a simple question.

"I'd've woken your wife."

"She's a heavy sleeper." He picked up a mint from his desk and handed it to Asato. "It will be easier if you find him now."

"Thanks, Tats." Asato unwrapped the mint, smiled and popped it in his mouth.

Terrance's lips twitched slightly at the use of the old nickname, but he could not smile.

Terrance was a very composed man, with an innate ability to appear unruffled regardless of his thoughts. It was thanks to this gift that he merely glanced over at the door to the supervisor's office every few seconds rather than staring at it fixedly. He pulled his eyes away from the door and back to his computer, noting the time in the lower right corner. He would not look at the door again for five minutes. He resumed working. Asato could last five minutes in the room. Alone with that pervert. Terrance's eyes were back on the door. He cursed himself and returned to work, starting the cycle anew. Terrance had yet to grow accustomed to sending Asato to the vampire. Though in all honesty, the supervisor was less Lord Ruthven than Asato himself. It seemed illogical for his friend to be both predator and prey, but it best fit the situation. Whoever the vampire, he was still eternally unable to do anything. And eternally obligated to try.

Thanks, Tats.

The damn name made it worse. It made him remember when it had not been merely a call to a friend across a crowded room. He remembered the nickname as hot breath in his ear, warm and comfortable. He remembered the nickname as a sharp gasp of pleasure beneath him, excited and thrilling. He did not want to remember that nickname grateful and shaky, scented with alcohol. It made him feel almost responsible for whatever was being done behind the door that he wasn't looking at.

Which, of course, he was looking at again.

Terrance cursed mentally and resumed work.

"Um...excuse me?" The hesitant whisper drew Terrance's eyes away from his work and his attention partially away from the office door. The distraction angered him.

"What?" he snapped and turned on his victim. And instantly froze. An external observer might have noticed a slight hesitation and his eyes widening a fraction. An external observer who knew Terrance would recognize the equivalent of complete shock, eyes bugging out and mouth agape. The victim...er...boy didn't seem to notice. His eyes were on the door. The one Terrance wasn't watching.

"Tsuzuki...he's here?" The boy was fidgeting; clearly trying not to stare at the door, throw open the door, stop whatever was going on behind the door. No, he couldn't know, the boy was merely observing his own discomfort. A very perceptive boy, noticing what was bothering him. Terrance knew the boy had to be Hisoka. If the accent wasn't enough, there were the looks to go by. It was the looks that had truly surprised him. Asato had said Hisoka resembled Hijiri. He had not said that they were practically identical.

"He's in there." Terrance took the opportunity to look at the door. But looking away was easier with Hisoka to wonder at. He would hardly consider himself the best judge - he'd never met Hijiri in person and it had been years since Asato had shown him any photos - but in his memory, the two had few physical differences. Hisoka's hair was lighter and his eyes were brighter. Hijiri hadn't even looked all that much older, though he had been, Terrance thought, nineteen.

"I brought his keys. We found them...." Hisoka fumbled in his pocket to pull them out. It looked difficult, with his attention focused elsewhere. Terrance sympathized; his mind was there as well.

"Just go right in, then. Asato won't mind." In fact, Asato would be grateful. Terrance didn't have time to notice a look of relief cross Hisoka's face before the boy was at the door, and pulling it open.

Asato came falling out the door as though he'd been pressed up against it. Since Lord Ruthven was standing in the doorframe with all the satisfaction of a cat who'd just discovered that birds could fly away, such was likely the case. Terrance resisted a sigh. Asato had always had a knack for trapping himself between an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Or the nearest real-world equivalent.

"Hisoka?"

"Baka!" The first word of Hisoka's lecture was the only one Terrance could translate. Idiot. It seemed an appropriate description for Asato. In fact, the only time he'd heard the word was in describing his friend.

"Hidoii...." Asato whined. Terrance thought the word meant mean or cruel. He briefly pondered the best revenge on whoever had told him Spanish would be the most useful language to study. Asato's whimpering had had no effect whatsoever on the boy's tirade. It seemed nothing would, until the quarrel faded under soft chuckles.

His laughter.

"...Tats?" His friend regarded him with concern. The boy, on the other hand, was gaping as though he'd grown a second head. It was odd and out of place, especially for him, but he couldn't help laughing.

"I'm sorry, Asato. I was just remembering the last time you whined in Japanese. When you'd call Hijiri." It had been sad, really. Asato making expensive phone calls for the sole purpose of being verbally abused. Though Hijiri had made his share of calls as well, just for lectures and scoldings. Terrance stole a glance at Asato, making sure he hadn't upset him by bringing up Hijiri. Asato was laughing as well.

"Well, I did say Hisoka was a lot like him."

"Hijiri wa...?" Hisoka started to ask, forgetting to switch back to English. Asato returned to Japanese for his explanation. Terrance listened, but didn't pick out the word he was looking for. He dismissed it as meaningless. Perhaps he couldn't make it out, or he was wrong about its meaning. Or Asato was lying again, and talking to Hijiri's twin he wouldn't blame him. Whatever the case, he didn't hear the word "koibito."

Last note, I swear. Lord Ruthven is a vampire based on Lord Byron. His character in this story is supposed to be based on Hakushaku.


	3. chapter 3

Once again it's Thursday. Though I'm very saddened to see how few people are reading this. Maybe I don't need to post it anymore? Why don't you review and let me know?

As far as Tatsumi's name change, it's important for his character's background (he's from one of those old, American aristocracy lines from the northeast) which won't mean much in this story (it being pretty much Hisoka x Tsuzuki), but will be very important to the prequel I'm trying to write. But you don't want to read my rants, you want to read my story.

Hisoka sat in the courtyard of his school, having scorned lunch in favor of his new book, The Hobbit. He didn't usually read fantasy, but Tsuzuki had insisted it was a classic that all must read. It had been a birthday present. He hadn't even thought about his birthday, but others hadn't been so careless. Kannuki-san had baked a cake for him. From scratch. Not that that was such an impossible thing, but it was extra effort. Kannuki-san had considered him worth the effort of baking from scratch. She was the kind of person who made the term "foster mother" not sound oxymoronic. Kazusa, the other kid living with Kannuki-san, had made him a card, more effort. It was kind of corny, with flowers and a sun, but she was only six. It was still a sweet thought and an excellent bookmark. He was using it to mark his place in The Hobbit. Tsuzuki's gift.

Tsuzuki had come by for his birthday. He'd actually been expecting it. Tsuzuki had known about his birthday and was the type of person who'd want to do something for it. Hisoka hadn't expected gifts. Aside from the book, Tsuzuki had brought ice cream for everyone and strawberry Pocky just for him. Tsuzuki had been shocked that Hisoka'd never had Pocky before.

"Even living in Japan? Really never?"

"Never."

"But Pocky is the third greatest thing to ever come from Japan!"

Hisoka wondered if the first two greatest things were sake and beer vending machines or if ramen noodles were on the list. Or some other Japanese food. Hisoka resumed reading. Absently he fumbled through his backpack for the strawberry Pocky. It was actually quite good.

"Hisoka!"

"Hisoka!"

Hisoka tried to ignore his approaching doom in the form of two freshmen. Saya and Yuma, the ultimate proof that twins are evil. Until meeting them, Hisoka had thought fan girls were a myth of the manga world, made up purely for comedic purposes. Such creatures could not exist in real life.

"Hisoka! We've been looking-"

"-everywhere for you! Why weren't you-"

"-at lunch with us, Hisoka?"

He wasn't sure which one was talking at any given moment. They weren't identical, but they were inseparable, and so they could not be identified as individuals. For the most part, Hisoka tried to avoid them. He closed his book and walked away, but the girls were determined stalkers.

"Hisoka, you can't run off yet!"

"You haven't told us who you're taking to Homecoming, Hisoka."

Hisoka weaved through the crowed halls, attempting to increase the distance between him and the girls. Thinking he'd made his escape, he paused to catch his breath. The two appeared in front of him.

"If you don't have a date yet, Hisoka, you can take both of us."

"We'd love to go with you, Hisoka."

"Please, Hisoka?"

"Please?"

Each girl grabbed onto an arm. Hisoka started to panic. The emotions of hyper teenagers played havoc with his empathic abilities.

"No!"

"Why not, Hisoka?"

"Why won't you go with us?"

Hisoka jerked himself free of their grasp.

"Because I don't like girls!" Calming down, Hisoka noticed that the hallway was suddenly very quiet.

Hisoka's room was as dark as it could be made. The lights were dim and the blinds were drawn, but the white walls, white beds, sterile white everything reflected all the light and bled the color from everything else. Tsuzuki wished it were darker. Hospitals were depressing enough when you couldn't see anything.

"Wakaba called me. Are you okay?"

"I just had a seizure. Idiot." Tsuzuki chuckled. The insult was probably the best indicator of returning health. It was hard to make out facial expressions in the hazy light, but Hisoka's tone implied that he was glaring. "I've had one before. It's triggered by an empathy overload. I'll be fine."

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better. You were very lucky that boy knew enough to put something in your mouth. Though his hand probably wasn't the best choice." Hisoka snorted. The sound of the snort worried Tsuzuki; it lacked both humor and disdain. Tsuzuki tried to shield his fears as he asked, "What's funny about it, Hisoka? You really hurt him."

"His hand was in my mouth long before the seizure started." Hisoka's tone was utterly bland, matching the blanket his hands toyed with.

"What happened at school, Hisoka?"

"I had a disagreement regarding my sexual orientation and its effect on my ability to defend myself. I'm not sure if this counts as winning or losing." A hint of amusement crept into Hisoka's voice. It seemed slightly forced.

Tsuzuki stared at Hisoka in shock. It was hardly the answer he'd expected. The fight, perhaps, though Hisoka hadn't seemed to him like a kid who got into fights.

"Does it bother you, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka asked in English. If the accent could be ignored, he'd have sounded like any of the millions of sullen teenagers across the country. Tsuzuki heard that tone every day; it wasn't a cause for concern. Tsuzuki was more disturbed by the change in language.

"No, I'm not bothered at all." Tsuzuki spoke in Japanese, trying to keep his voice soothing. He tried to consciously feel acceptance and understanding, but he couldn't tell if Hisoka was reading them or not. "It's just that coming out of the closet has been a very traumatic thing for everyone I've known. I've known men who got married and had kids just to avoid admitting that they were gay."

"You really put gay people in closets here?" Hisoka's skin, paled by the white room, was positively sapped of all color. "I thought my mother was just crazy!

"It's an expression. Coming out of the closet is when you admit openly that you're gay." Tsuzuki frowned. "Hisoka, is that why your mother put you in a closet?"

"She ...she said that I wasn't her child, that I was some demon who possessed her child, because her son could never think anything so filthy. She said I was evil." His voice shook with the strain of held back tears. Tsuzuki sat on the bed near him, but, careful of his empathy, did not reach to touch him.

"Your mother was wrong, Hisoka. You're not evil or filthy. You're a wonderful person, Hisoka."

"Tsuzuki..." Whatever barrier had blocked the tears collapsed. Tsuzuki resisted the urge to wipe the tears himself, instead handing Hisoka a tissue from the bed stand. Hisoka took it, taking care to avoid skin contact. It angered Tsuzuki, that such effort was necessary. Physical contact was a basic human need. That Hisoka couldn't satisfy it seemed wrong. Was wrong.

"Wakaba said they'll be releasing you on the thirty-first, right?"

"I don't know what Kannuki-san told you." No longer crying, Hisoka had returned to the sullen teenager act, masking embarrassment.

"Well, I'm taking Kazusa trick-or-treating and you're going with us."

"What?" The look on Hisoka's face was priceless. Tsuzuki wished he'd brought a camera, but who'd have thought there'd be use for one in a hospital.

"Trick-or-Treating. It's where you put on costumes and go around a neighborhood-"

"Idiot. I know what trick-or-treating is."

"Great. So it's decided. Wakaba may take some convincing. But Kazusa will be so excited. She's going as a fairy princess, so she needs a handsome prince. Don't worry about the costume, I'll find one for you. You just rest up. Oh! Can't forget this." Tsuzuki produced a small stuffed rabbit and set it by the tissue box. Its ears flopped over its head, covering dark, glassy eyes. Hisoka picked it up by the scruff of its neck.

"What is it?"

"A bunny - It's a get well gift!" Tsuzuki shrieked as he dodged the pillow Hisoka'd thrown. "You have to bring them on hospital visits. Flowers or stuffed animals. Or candy, if it's allowed."

"I don't like sweets." Hisoka turned his head toward the drawn curtains. Unconsciously, he pulled the stuffed rabbit to his chest.

"Flowers and stuffed animals, then. They make good company." Tsuzuki rose to leave. "And don't worry about all your Halloween candy; I'm sure someone will eat it for you."

"I'm more concerned about you picking out the fairy prince costume." Tsuzuki made a valiant effort not to laugh at Hisoka's comment, but several chuckles slipped through.

"Sorry, Hisoka. But you've really got to learn more American slang."

Kannuki-san wasn't exactly angry. She was frustrated and worried, and, all right, maybe she was just a little bit angry. It made Hisoka feel guilty for upsetting her, but not guilty enough to rest. It was the first day he was truly permitted freedom and he wasn't going to waste it in bed zoned out on Phenobarbital. Actually, he planned to stop the meds altogether as soon as Kannuki-san's worry lessened to the point where she didn't dose him herself. Epilepsy and Empathy were hardly the same illness, even if they shared some symptoms, and what was good for one would really do very little for the other.

"Are you sure you're up to going?" Kannuki-san asked for the seventh time since picking him up from the hospital. "Kazusa will understand if you need to stay home tonight."

"I know. I want to go."; Truthfully, Hisoka could think of many far more pleasant ways to spend an evening then running around collecting candy in costume. But feeling Kazusa's joy at finding out he'd be tagging along, it had become infectious. Being able to enjoy such a level of excitement when she'd come with Kannuki-san to visit him let Hisoka see, if only for one moment, the gift within his curse. And for that, he wasn't going to disappoint her.

"Very well, but do not let either of them tire you out." Kannuki-san managed to put almost as much concern into her voice as she was feeling. With completely unfeigned reluctance, she handed Hisoka his costume.

It wasn't anything that Hisoka expected. It was a yukata. He had no clue why Tsuzuki would have had one, especially one for him. The yukata had a dark green base that faded into white. A large bird was embroidered in gold thread across the back. Carefully, he slipped on the delicate yukata. He glanced at the mirror to be certain he'd put it on right and gasped. The green of the cloth went perfectly with his eyes. It certainly wasn't something he'd have picked out himself, but he couldn't deny that it was lovely. Not just the yukata itself, but how it looked on him. Hisoka had never though of himself as particularly attractive. Hardly unattractive, just normal. Yet the person he saw in the mirror was...

"Gorgeous! I knew it would look great on you, Hisoka." Hisoka jumped at the sound of Tsuzuki's voice. Something was wrong. Amid the pattern of emotions he'd grown used to feeling as Tsuzuki something had changed. The stress was greatly increased, and all the other emotions felt somehow frayed. The difference threw Hisoka off. "I was with Hijiri when he wore that to a festival once. The girls didn't even bother to pretend they weren't staring at him."

Hisoka snorted. Tsuzuki winked at him.

"The boys didn't bother, either."

Hisoka felt the heat as his cheeks darkened. He hated blushing.

"This...this was Hijiri's?" He really hated blushing. The blush made him more embarrassed, which in turn made him blush more. If only physical reactions could be convinced that circular logic was innately flawed.

"Yep. He gave it to me when I left Japan." Grief reached out and seized Hisoka's mind. He felt, suddenly that he was again starring into a mirror, but one that had slightly altered his reflection. The darker-haired image was smiling at him. Barely lighter eyes gazed back, echoing love.

"I don't want anyone to see me in it when you can't."

Worry.

The intrusion shattered the image, and Hisoka was again looking at Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki's eyes looked as worried as he felt.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." Tsuzuki's expression of concern faded, but the actual feeling was unchanged. Hisoka was surprised to find that he felt relief at seeing Tsuzuki trying to deceive again. Though Tsuzuki couldn't quite manage it; something was overworking his shields.

"As long as you're sure. What do you think of my costume, Hisoka?"

Hisoka studied Tsuzuki. He was dressed in what at first seemed an ordinary business suit. Hisoka noted two distinct, subtle differences; Tsuzuki had a tail and puppy ears. It was very difficult not to laugh at seeing such a perfect costume. Hisoka reached up and tweaked one of the ears.

"I don't see a costume."

"You're so mean, Hisoka." Unable to prevent some sort of reaction, Hisoka permitted himself a quiet snort. He might have ended up truly laughing were he not picking up on Tsuzuki's obvious distress. The Need was twisting around his mind, almost overwhelming.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hisoka didn't notice he was echoing Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki strengthened his shields involuntarily. It didn't work.

"Of course. I'm not the one who just got out of the hospital." Hisoka could feel the effort of Tsuzuki trying to calm his mind. But the frayed strips just wouldn't stay together. He was tying them in knots, and they still fell apart.

"Your hands are shaking."

"No they aren't." Hisoka grabbed Tsuzuki's right wrist and dangled the hand between them. The twitch reminded Hisoka of the lunch they'd had the first time they'd met. "Stop that, Hisoka."

"Be honest with me, Tsuzuki. I'm an empath. It hurts me more when you try to lie."

"I'm sorry." Tsuzuki really meant it, but Hisoka sensed none of the emotional changes he'd expect from a liar deciding to tell the truth. Only guilt and a craving.

"Sorry is about all you'll ever be, if you can't last even a conversation without needing a drink." His comment surprised Tsuzuki. For the first time, Hisoka felt Tsuzuki experience anger.

"I haven't had a drink all day. I'm not so much of an idiot as to take kids out when I'm drunk." Tsuzuki's anger scared him. It seemed unreal. Tsuzuki took a deep breath and the anger began to slowly ebb. Hisoka thought about commenting on how a single day was causing so much extra stress, so many emotional fluctuations, but decided against it. It wouldn't do any good.

"I'm sorry." Hisoka looked down and noticed his hand still wrapped around Tsuzuki's wrist. It was strange. Touching Tsuzuki didn't feel like an intrusion; it felt comfortable. He let his grip slide down until they were holding hands. Unsure how emotions were conveyed with touch, he settled for squeezing Tsuzuki's hand tightly before letting go.

"It's okay, Hisoka." Tsuzuki smiled. "I'll try to be more honest with you."

"Are you two ready to go?"

Kazusa ran into the room, the image of a six-year-old princess. Tsuzuki's tender smile shifted into a mischievous grin.

"You ready, Hisoka?" he asked in English. Hisoka found the language somewhat annoying. He wished Kazusa could stay at home so he and Tsuzuki could keep using Japanese. Hisoka mentally kicked himself. Kazusa was the reason they were going out in the first place.

"Let's go." Kazusa grabbed his hand to drag him outside. Hisoka quickly fortified his shields against her. It was so different from holding hands with Tsuzuki.


	4. chapter 4

Sorry this is so late, but I couldn't post this Wednesday and I was at home for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, home means no internet. Sad, right? But lucky for you, since I have to keep to the schedule and post everything before finals end and I go home for winter break, being late does not mean skipping a week. Rejoice and come back Thursday.

"Can you help me with my homework, Hisoka?" He'd been surprised that Kazusa had asked him, but willing to help out. After all, how hard could the homework be for first graders? The two of them sat on Hisoka's bed. Kazusa solemnly handed him her assignment. The paper showed a tracing of her hand, colored with crayons. Four words were scratched onto the picture in the careful, uneven print of the six-year-old. "Puppies" on the palm and, on three of the four fingers, were written the words "family," "friends," and "cookies." The pinkie was blank.

"What is it?" Hisoka was utterly perplexed by the assignment. Kazusa sighed, impatiently.

"It's my Thanksgiving Turkey." Looking at it carefully, Hisoka could make out a vague resemblance to a fat bird, which might be a turkey. "We're supposed to decorate the body and feathers with things that we're grateful for. I need another one. One that's not silly."

"But, Kazusa," Hisoka couldn't keep himself from saying it. "You don't have a family. That's why you live here."

Kazusa shook her head.

"You and Wakaba are my family. Tsuzuki, too."

"Family isn't just the people you live with." Hisoka tried to figure out just how to explain family to Kazusa. It wasn't a topic he had much experience with.

"Right, it's the people you go home to." Hisoka frowned. What was the difference between the place you lived and "home"?

"I don't understand." Kazusa smiled at him, all sweetness and innocence.

"That's okay. You're a boy. Boys are silly."

"If I'm so silly, do you really want my help?" His tone reflected irritation. He was not silly.

"Yes! Don't be so mean, Hisoka." He sighed. He wasn't mean either.

After several suggestions and counter arguments, it was decided that chocolate milk was something that should never be taken for granted.

"Can I just eat in my room?" Hisoka shifted awkwardly, trying to catch Kannuki-san's attention as she hovered over her culinary masterpieces in progress. The flurry of activity had created in her a hyper-emotional state to interfere with Hisoka's thoughts. At his words, her movement ceased. She turned on him.

"Are you feeling alright? Is the medicine not working?" Worry flooded her mind; Hisoka could tell it wasn't about burning the turkey.

"No, I'm fine. Really." Her concern slid into irritation as she returned to her preparations.

"Then no, you may not eat in your room." She sighed into the stuffing. "It's not like there will be all that many people. Just the three of us, my parents, my brother, and his wife. It's the family, Hisoka. They won't hurt you. We're all very nice people."

Hisoka was certain they were very nice people. Very nice people with very strong emotions and no shields and he was in no mood to deal with it. He'd dreamt of Muraki and woken at three to a damp bed and the urgent need to be sick. Finally drifting back into sleep, his morning dreams were hazy - filled with blood and his near-perfect image. He woke for the day feeling disconnected, isolated. They weren't unusual feelings, but they were unusual in their intensity. The feelings kept him from focusing. When he went to shower, there were no clean towels, and he'd locked himself in the miniature hell Kannuki-san called her linen closet trying to get one. At least he hadn't started to cry before she let him out.

"Could you cut up the tomatoes for the salad, my hand's still have stuffing on them. Thanks."

Hisoka took the cutting board and the fruit over to the kitchen table. He cut slowly, careful not to cut his fingers. He'd never be able to separate the blood from the red juice if he did. Kannuki-san was encouraging him to speed up with chatter. She wanted as much as possible done before Kazusa returned.

Kazusa had gone out with Tsuzuki on some minor event contrived to keep her from being under Kannuki-san's feet. Hisoka had almost gone along when Tsuzuki had invited him. Instead he'd decided the afternoon would be better spent helping Kannuki-san, and convincing her that he shouldn't have to spend the evening with the company. Of course that had failed.

"We're back! Wakaba, guess what Asato and I did…." The bundle of energy that was a child with a five-day vacation from school darted into the kitchen, half-dragging Tsuzuki. She grabbed the hands Kannuki-san was still in the process of drying and tried to pull her from the room. "I wanna show you something!"

Kannuki-san half rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be led. Tsuzuki stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He looked worn out, Hisoka realized, and felt worse. Just as Hisoka was about to verbalize concern, Tsuzuki spoke.

"That girl," he sighed. "If we could figure out where she gets it, the country would never have to worry about an energy crisis."

Hisoka shrugged and continued to slice tomatoes. It wasn't his business if Tsuzuki wanted to pretend nothing was wrong. He wasn't even certain that something was wrong. Playing with Kazusa often left him feeling run-down. There was no reason to think it was any different for Tsuzuki.

"So, has she taught you her secrets, Hisoka?"

"What?"

"Her culinary secrets." Tsuzuki explained. "Surely you've realized you're living with one of the greatest cooks on the planet? That's why you stayed home, wasn't it? To get her to show you how she does it?"

"I didn't feel like going out. That's all." Hisoka didn't feel like talking at all, even with Tsuzuki. What he felt like doing was going to his room, getting in his bed, pulling the covers over his head and remaining there for the rest of eternity. They could seal the door and leave his corpse there for all he cared.

"Whatever you just said, Hisoka, I hope it wasn't the location of any desserts we might need tonight." Kannuki-san had returned to the kitchen, apparently free of the young whirlwind. "Honestly, sometimes it sounds like you two are plotting something."

"Gomen- er, sorry Wakaba." Tsuzuki grinned at his joke. Hisoka didn't find it all that funny. Kannuki-san sighed in exasperation and addressed the ceiling.

"First Kazusa, then Asato. I can only hope that Hisoka will maintain his maturity." She reached into the refrigerator and took out one of the pumpkin pies she'd made earlier. She offered it to Tsuzuki. "Here. For taking her on your day off."

"No big deal." Tsuzuki took the pie as carefully as if it were a new born.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to be late for Thanksgiving dinner."

"I said it wasn't a problem."

"Where are you going for dinner?" Hisoka blushed. He hadn't meant to ask, he'd just blurted it out. His face darkened again as he realized how glad he was that he hadn't blurted out the rest of the thought: why aren't you staying with us, with me? Tsuzuki smiled at him in a way that made Hisoka wonder if Tsuzuki was suddenly reading minds. "I've got family to see. But it's not too far. I'll be on time if I leave," Tsuzuki glanced down at the watch on his right wrist, "oops, right now. I'll see you later, Wakaba. And I'll see you very soon, 'Soka."

"Baka."

"Hisoka!" Kannuki-san scolded, "That doesn't sound like a nice thing to say. What does that mean?"

"It means, 'See you soon." Hisoka muttered into the tomatoes. It was going to be a long night.

At least the food was good. Actually the food was better than good. Tsuzuki had been right to refer to Kannuki-san as "one of the greatest cooks on the planet." But even such food as had been prepared tonight could not make up for the company. Not that they weren't nice people, but they were there and far too interested in him for Hisoka to be completely comfortable. Throughout dinner they continually pestered him with questions about school, his grades, his friends, everything. And they weren't disgusted when he explained to Kannuki-san's mother just why he didn't have a girlfriend. So they were nice people, good people. They were still people. Hisoka was beginning to wonder if he could ever explain himself if he left suddenly due to "people sickness" when the phone rang. He jumped to answer it, taking the cordless as far from the dinner table as he could.

"Kannuki residence."

"Hello. I'm very sorry to interrupt your dinner, uh… is this Hisoka?"

"Yes." Hisoka didn't recognize the voice on the line.

"I'm Mr. Phillips, I work with Asato. Again, I'm sorry to interrupt, but something has come up and I need to speak with him. Can you get him?"

"Asato?" Hisoka easily recognized Tsuzuki's first name. But why would anyone be looking for Tsuzuki at Kannuki-san's? From the few times he'd met Mr. Phillips, he'd seemed to be Tsuzuki's friend. Surely he'd know to try Tsuzuki's family.

"Asato Tsuzuki-"

"Ah, Tsuzuki. Iye- I mean no, he's not here…now." Hisoka stumbled over his almost-lie. "When I see him, I'll tell him to call you."

"If you could have him call my cell phone, he has the number."

"Of course." Hisoka hung up before Mr. Phillips could complete the phrase "thank you." Uncertainly, he made his way back to the table.

"Who was that?"

"Wrong number." At the earliest even slightly reasonable opportunity, Hisoka cried headache, and retired to his room.

As he slipped out his window, Hisoka glanced back to make sure the door was locked. He was fairly certain he had the rest of the night to himself, but it wouldn't do for some concerned relative of Kannuki-san to walk in on the empty room of the supposed invalid.

He hadn't truly intended to go out when he excused himself from diner. His headache had been real, and as it was conveniently a side effect of Phenobarbital, along with irritability, insomnia, and nightmares (how nice to finally have an excuse for his personality), Kannuki-san thought she knew exactly what was wrong with him. His original plan had been to lie in the dark and rest from the emotions around him. It was the loneliness that disturbed him the most. He'd gone to his room to get away from it. He had known he wouldn't fully escape it, since it was his own, not something gleaned from the company. Loneliness was always worse around other people, but being alone wasn't helping. The feeling of isolation and a lack of connection were almost painful. As were the pain, the grief and the worry. The worry was his, without doubt, though certainly made worse by the presence of people concerned for him. He knew it was his own, because he was worried about the phone call. There had to be some reason Mr. Phillips would assume Tsuzuki was here. Which was why Hisoka was sneaking out of his room on Thanksgiving.

Once outside, Hisoka was faced with the realization that he had no clue where to go. Tsuzuki's family would have to be close, but he had no idea of where, or what Tsuzuki's definition of close was. An hour by car? Hisoka just started walking, careful to pay some attention to where he had been in the hopes he'd be able to find his way back. He tried not to focus too much on where he was going; last time he'd wandered aimlessly, he'd found Tsuzuki. Such thoughts led him back to the graveyard.

Hisoka surprised himself by not being surprised to find Tsuzuki there. Tsuzuki looked better then he had the last time Hisoka had seen him there. He was sitting facing one of the tombstones, eating Kannuki-san's pie and drinking beer. He wasn't crying.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hisoka had intended to simply give Tsuzuki his message and depart, not wishing to interrupt a family meal. The surroundings, though, did not seem to merit much respect. His tone was snappish with anger at Tsuzuki for lying.

"Hisoka?" Startled, Tsuzuki jumped, upsetting the bottle. Beer spilled out onto the ground.

"You said you were eating with family." Hisoka accused. He felt he struck a cord of guilt in Tsuzuki. At least a note; the man was not utterly shameless even if he was without embarrassment.

"I am with family." Tsuzuki gestured to the small monument. "My older sister, Ruka."

"And what? Your uncle is buried three rows over and you mother's interred in the vault?" Hisoka was disturbed by the emotions he read from Tsuzuki. Affection and something more. Why were half of Tsuzuki's emotions indefinable?

"No, there's only Ruka. Always only Ruka." Tsuzuki laughed softly, but then his voice turned serious. "She's the only family I have, so I like to spend holidays with her."

"I don't think spending holidays with a dead person is healthy." All the family feeling came close to making Hisoka sick with loneliness. It had been irritating at dinner; love around him that he wasn't a part of. With Tsuzuki it was tainted with guilt and pain, but it still excluded him. He wished desperately that it didn't.

"Didn't you ever make offerings to your ancestors, Hisoka?" He picked up the now mostly empty beer bottle. "Not that Ruka was much of a drinker. But shouldn't you be eating back at Wakaba's?"

"I didn't feel well, so I was excused." Hisoka was glad Tsuzuki had not referred to Kannuki-san and her company as family.

"She let you go out?"

"I went to my room. I left later."

"Ah." Tsuzuki smiled at him and offered the pie. "If you left early, you didn't get any of Wakaba's heavenly desserts."

Hesitantly, Hisoka took the pie from Tsuzuki. It really was good, though not quite as good as Tsuzuki claimed. Too sweet. Once he was eating, Tsuzuki sat back down, turned so as to divide his attention between him and the stone. Again Hisoka hesitated before joining him. It was an odd dinner: just desserts, nothing to drink, the hostess dead and only one guest talking. Yet there was still an enjoyable quality to it, though the lack of liquid proved quite annoying.

"Sorry, I'd offer you a drink, but you're still young."

"Beer doesn't go with pumpkin pie." Hisoka tried to sound like his mouth wasn't dry.

"You're lucky I think it does, or I'd probably have to be walking you home tonight." Tsuzuki grinned. For some reason beyond his comprehension, Hisoka blushed. "Speaking of which, I better take you back. Wakaba'll kill me if she finds out I kept you out today. Especially if she thinks you're sick. But, why did you come here anyway?"

This time Hisoka knew why he blushed. He'd completely forgotten the message.

"Mr. Phillips called -" Tsuzuki laughed. "What's so funny?"

"Misuta Firopusu." Tsuzuki repeated. "You've pretty much lost you accent when you're speaking English, but it comes right back in your Japanese."

"Sorry."

"No, it's cute." The blush that had been fading came back.

"He wanted you to call his cell phone. He didn't say why."

"Then I'll do that as soon as I drop you off." Tsuzuki gathered the remnants of their strange repast.

"Why did he think you'd be eating at Kannuki-san's?" Tsuzuki froze. Slowly, he turned and faced Hisoka.

"Because I told him I would be."

"Why?" Green eyes stared into purple ones.

"It was my excuse for not eating at his place. I didn't want to eat with him, but I didn't want him to worry about me eating here. Holidays are for families, Hisoka." Hisoka sighed. Not everyone had families. The closest he'd come to a family dinner was pumpkin pie in a graveyard, and even then the emotions surrounding Tsuzuki weren't quite the same as they were around Kannuki-san and her family. Then again, maybe all families felt a little different.

Terrance's cell phone rang once, twice. He answered before the third.

"This better be you, Asato." Terrance's typically neutral voice growled.

"Yeah, Hisoka said you'd called."

"The wrong house, apparently. You know, when you ask someone to lie for you, ask someone who does it better."

"Who? Hisoka? He lied?" Asato's voice sounded shocked.

"He strongly implied that while you weren't at Wakaba's yet, you would be later. You weren't going to be there at all, were you?"

"Well, I was there later. And I didn't ask him to lie. He was pissed when he told me to call you."

"So where were you?" The voice on the other end seemed to hesitate.

"With Ruka - don't start, Tats."

"It's not like you didn't have a place to go. We invited you-"

"And you know exactly why I didn't like eating with you and your wife."

"You used to like her. She was your friend first."

"Exactly the reason I don't want to spend an evening lying to her about you." One of them sighed, Terrance couldn't tell which.

"I do love her, Asato."

"Yeah, well did you have a reason for interrupting Hisoka's first Thanksgiving or were you just checking up on me?"

"Dawn ran away again." It was better to talk about work. Far less stressful. Far simpler.

"Again?" Terrance could hear the disappointment and the worry through the mangled channel of cell phone communication.

"Yes. A missing persons report was filed, but you'll need to give the details of her previous escapades to Sergeant Terazuma. He's in charge of her case."

"Him? The man's an idiot." As much as he disapproved of Asato's comment, Terrance had to agree.

"He's already accused me of abducting her for sexual purposes."

"Shows how well he knows you, huh?" Terrance almost returned to non-work topics, but a teasing quality in the tone of Asato's voice reminded him that the comment probably wasn't serious. At least not entirely, it was so hard to tell with Asato. "I better call him then. I hope he doesn't accuse me of feeding her to my plants. Sorry you had to have your dinner interrupted."

"You could pay me back by remembering to turn you damn cell phone on once in a while."

"I'll do my best, Tats. Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Happ-" Asato hung up while Terrance was still replying.


	5. chapter 5

Back to the Thursday updates. This chapter is a little longer, and a little darker. Some sexual harassment and references to poetry. Anyway, part six should be posted this weekend, as I've just found my exam schedule and I'll be done with school next Thursday and home without internet again from next Friday until next year (wah), so the only way I can post all seven parts before then is to double post next week as well.

"Yes, that's great news. Thank you for telling me." Asato sighed with relief as he hung up the phone. Dawn was back, found safe and cranky after nearly a week wandering around alone. She should have been found sooner. Every second she had been gone had increased her chances of never returning. They might have found her sooner, if he had been there to provide her background. If he hadn't been stupidly unreachable the day she left. If he hadn't lied to everyone, forced Hisoka to lie -

Hisoka.

Well, he hadn't exactly forced Hisoka to lie for him. He certainly would never have asked it of the boy. Hisoka had tried to cover for him on his own.

In one sense, that was a positive thing. Hisoka didn't connect well with other people, a characteristic Asato thought the boy had probably developed growing up a foreigner and a bastard along side his father's legitimate, Japanese children. Being an empath must have made it close to unbearable; it didn't matter how polite people were when you knew just how they felt. Not that his first year here had been of much help. Closets were far from the best places to grow emotionally. So any act that indicated an attachment to someone had to be a positive sign. Even if the act itself was negative.

Lying was, by its very nature, bad.

_Really, Asato, do you think so?_

Though Asato could try to argue that Hisoka had only been trying to cover for him, proving that Hisoka did care, had formed some sort of emotional attachment and thus did not consider himself completely isolated from the entire human race, the fact remained that Hisoka had lied because of him.

He'd forced Hisoka to lie. He'd put the boy in a position where friendship demanded it. Ignorance of the way Hisoka would respond was no excuse. His behavior had been disgusting, selfish and utterly typical. He should have invented some other remotely plausible story for Terrance to politely pretend to believe and left Hisoka out of it.

Even though it was good to know that Hisoka liked him.

Asato resisted the urge to bang his head against his desk. His brain just wasn't working properly yet today and sudden trauma wouldn't do his thought pattern much good. He rummaged through the mess on his desk and carefully failed to notice any paper clips. There would be paperclips in the supply closet.

Asato slipped the paperclips into his pocket just as he shut the supply closet door behind him. He didn't need the light. Two steps farther into the closet and he was at the back shelf. He reached to the top shelf and pulled the bottle out from behind the packages of extra paper towels. His fingers didn't fumble as he unscrewed the cap and raised the bottle to his lips. Distracted by the not quite unpleasant burn at the back of his throat, he didn't hear the door open behind him. He did notice the increase of light.

"Asato," His supervisor's voice sent chills down his spine. It sounded far too pleased. The room returned to darkness as the door closed. "I'm so glad you decided to meet me here."

Asato turned around and opened his mouth to protest, but Lord Ruthven stepped farther into the room, driving him back. It was too dark to see the smile Asato knew was there as Lord Ruthven took the bottle from his hand.

"I know you're here to meet me. After all," The satisfied smirk echoed in the enclosed space. Lord Ruthven held the bottle at eye level before sliding it onto a shelf. His other hand stroked the side of Asato's face. "I can't think of another reason for you to be in here, in the dark."

"Paperclips?" His own voice sounded as weak as his excuse. He was caught and he knew it. He had no choice but to face the consequences. His supervisor laughed quietly.

"You're quite funny, Asato." The kiss was forceful, pushing Asato into the shelf behind him. He could feel the dull jab of unsharpened pencils against his back and the incessant caressing of fingers slipping under his shirt. Snake-like, a tongue probed at his lips, trying to spread them apart. Asato couldn't suppress a whimper. A beeper went off, startling the two back to reality.

"Sorry to cut this short. Perhaps we can continue on our date this Friday?"

"Friday?" Asato gasped. His voice wouldn't work properly, but it hardly mattered, since his mind couldn't grasp the situation and probably wouldn't for at least a few minutes.

"Friday, about six? Give you some time to get ready after work." In the light of the now partially open door, the shadows gave Lord Ruthven's face a near demonic cast.

"Six." Asato echoed, not exactly agreeing but accepting. The door shut, leaving him in darkness. Eyes fixed on the edge of light around the door, his hand absently reached for the bottle.

His mouth suddenly felt very dirty.

"...so do you have any ideas?" Asato spoke quickly, his tone reflecting his nerves.

"For who's Christmas gift, again?" Lord Ruthven's voice sounded bored, but his eyes were fixed on Asato, staring with rapt attention at some point under his clothes.

"Hisoka…uh…the Kurosaki kid. He's still kinda edgy about everything. I want to find something special for him." His explanation was only vague because he couldn't find any clearer words. Asato finished his drink and signaled the waitress for another. He was having trouble relaxing. Lord Ruthven seemed to consider.

"Perhaps Confessions of a Mask?"

"What?" Asato nearly spit out half of his new drink.

"Why not? The boy is Japanese and gay. It's certainly appropriate."

"It's not appropriate! The book is perverse."

"I didn't think so." Asato dug his teeth deep into his tongue to hold back his opinion on anyone who could find the image of St. Sebastian's martyrdom erotic.

Hisoka shivered and pulled his coat tighter. He stuffed icy hands deeper into his pockets. It was cold outside Tsuzuki's apartment building, but he would not go in. He couldn't. He wasn't even entirely sure why he was out there except that he'd had a lousy day and wanted to complain about it. He'd intended to talk to Kannuki-san, actually started to, until he realized that although she'd been willing to listen, it wasn't a problem he wanted to share with her. He wanted to talk to Tsuzuki.

He needed to talk to Tsuzuki. So he paced the street, waiting.

"You're talking about work again, Asato. I want to hear about you." The statement fell just short of being an order. Asato found himself responding automatically.

"Sorry. M'life's pretty much work. Pathetic, right?" Asato spun his glass in his hands, watching little whirlpools form around the ice cubes. "I raise plants?"

"You are just too funny." Even the light laughter sounded faintly perverse in Asato's ears. "You are so beautiful, Asato. Your eyes especially. They make me think of poetry."

"'I had a dream which was not all a dream'?" Asato spit out the first line of Byron he could remember. Lord Ruthven shook his head.

"I was thinking more of 'Love's Philosophy' by Shelly. Though if you like Lord Byron, 'She walks in Beauty' seems written for you, if you were a girl." It was Asato's turn to laugh, near hysterical but still quiet giggles. "You don't think so?"

"You ever see Blazing Saddles?" He tried to calm his voice, but his words were punctuated with the drunken laughter. "There's this scene in it where the girl is singing about men. 'They quote Byron and Shelly and jump on your belly-'"

"Not until we get back to your place." Though he couldn't completely stop the giggles, Asato found he had nothing at which to laugh.

Pulling up in front of his building provided no comfort for Asato. Throughout the ride Asato been subjected to the romantic poets. Endurable, only as they reminded him that he hadn't yet invited the vampire to cross his doorway. As Lord Ruthven held the car door for him, the final poem neared completion.

"…a mind at peace with all below…." A figure that had been huddled on the stairs suddenly stood and came towards them.

"Tsuzuki!" Asato blinked, trying to focus his eyes.

"Hisoka?" The boy threw his arms around Asato and buried his face in the man's chest. Asato could hear soft sobs. Gently he wrapped his arms around the child.

_A heart whose love is innocent_.

Hisoka sat on Tsuzuki's sofa, studying the apartment around him. It was small, one bedroom, and half a kitchen in which Tsuzuki was making tea. Two or three plants were huddled together on the kitchen counter. Aside from them, there wasn't much decoration and what there was didn't match. Not that the apartment was bare; in places it was absolutely cluttered. Videotapes, CDs, and other random things were stacked haphazardly near the television and stereo. The apartment was obviously lived in, but it seemed very impersonal and somehow temporary. It wasn't the kind of place he'd expected Tsuzuki to live. He'd expected Tsuzuki's place to be homey.

"If you ever need to come here again," Tsuzuki called from the kitchenette, "I keep a spare key in the outside flower box. Then you wouldn't have to wait outside."

"You shouldn't just leave a key outside, idiot!" Hisoka blushed at the thought of needing to come here again when Tsuzuki was out. He didn't want to; at least he didn't want to need to come. The realization that the open invitation pleased him made him blush an even deeper shade of red. He'd only just regained his composure after weeping into Tsuzuki's arms and he was determined to maintain it, even if anger was the only way to do it. "Anyone could find it. Plus you're telling people about it."

"I haven't told many people. Just Tats and now you." Tsuzuki brought two cups of tea over to the sofa and sat by Hisoka. "Besides, I've locked myself out a few times by losing my keys. That's more dangerous than a spare buried in a flower pot."

"And 'Tats' will never tell, will he? Though I guess you trust him." Tsuzuki's date had been reluctant to leave. As much as he didn't want to, Hisoka had to give Tsuzuki credit for kicking the man out. "I wouldn't. His emotions are… unclean."

"Unclean?" Tsuzuki chuckled. "I don't think anyone ever called Tats unclean. He's the most - oh! You think that guy was Tats? No, Tats is Terrance - Mr. Phillips - my best friend since college. That was just a bad date."

"Bad date, huh? And were you ever going to tell me you were gay?" It seemed to Hisoka that was an important tidbit of information. He could understand Tsuzuki not specifically telling him when they first met, especially taking prejudices into account. It was really none of his business anyway. But once he had told Tsuzuki about himself, it would have made sense for Tsuzuki to tell him. Tsuzuki had been trying to connect with him, and sexual orientation would have given them a common ground.

"Does it matter?" It was asked as a genuine question rather than a challenge.

"Yes, I'm morally outraged by homosexuals. Idiot!" Tsuzuki smiled and Hisoka could feel the relief. "It would be beyond ridiculous for me to criticize you for having the same tastes as me. I just don't like being lied to."

"Sorry. My first real boyfriend was an absolute closet case - he was really scared that people would find out he was gay - so I got used to not talking about it. I wasn't trying to lie. Do you forgive me?" Hisoka snorted. Tsuzuki's shy smile deepened.

"Idiot…"

"So what brought you here in the first place?" Tsuzuki's tone of voice and thought were gentle, but Hisoka's mind froze. His eyes widened and his hand tightened their grip around the warm teacup. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to talk about it.

"Well, there's this guy at school. A senior. He's…uh…interested in me."

"An older guy? Everyone must be jealous. Is he cute?"

"Very." Hisoka blushed again. "But that's part of the problem. I can't like him."

"Is it that you don't want to hurt him, but you're just not interested?"

"No! Well, maybe. But the thing is I could like him. He's attractive, nice, and athletic. He's not going to be valedictorian, but he's not failing his classes either. I could see myself really liking him. But every time he talks to me, I keep thinking of…of…" His voice became a mere whisper as he said the name, "Muraki-sensei. It's not anything he does, or the way he feels. It's…well… it doesn't quite make sense. We'll be talking and he'll do some ordinary thing and suddenly I'm a doll that…that creature hasn't stopped playing with yet! It's not fair!"

Hisoka's voice cracked on the last word and violent sobs wracked his body. Tsuzuki instinctively reached out to hug the boy, but remembered his empathy at the last moment and held back. Hisoka put his tea down and leaned into Tsuzuki's open arms. Once Tsuzuki realized that the contact wasn't hurting Hisoka, he embraced the boy tightly, holding him until the crying calmed, softly whispering meaningless words of comfort filled with meaningful emotions.

"Will it always be like this, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka's voice still trembled.

"Of course it won't. You'll never forget what happened, but some day relationships won't be scary anymore."

"But I want to forget! I hate being scared!" There was no verbal response that could comfort Hisoka, so Tsuzuki kept his mouth shut, merely trying to provide a soothing presence until Hisoka cried himself out.

Almost as soon as the tears stopped, Hisoka began extracting himself from his comfortable position in Tsuzuki's arms. It was far too comfortable a position. Hisoka edged along the sofa, physically distancing himself from Tsuzuki. It would be too easy to rely on him. He had to remind himself that Tsuzuki was not a person to trust. He'd seen it in his eyes on the day they'd met. Secret-keeper. Deceiver. Betrayer. Tonight had only added another item to the list of things he knew Tsuzuki lied about. Hisoka was being unfair, and he knew it. It wasn't like Tsuzuki had actually lied about it. Tsuzuki's sex life was absolutely none of his business and he had no right to be angry at not being informed.

"Ne, Hisoka, does Wakaba know you're here?"

"I…I…She doesn't." Hisoka stammered, flustered at being reminded of such an obvious action. He nearly kicked himself. It's not that he was trying to be cruel, or even to disregard her existence, although that was exactly what he'd done. He'd completely forgotten her. "I forgot to tell her."

"I better call her, then, before she gets the police out. You don't want to be reported missing around here. The cop who handles most of the teen runaway cases is a real pain." Tsuzuki leaned over Hisoka to grab his phone, wrapping his arm subtly around the boy's shoulder in the process. When Tsuzuki sat up, Hisoka found himself pulled back into the not uncomfortable position of half-leaning against Tsuzuki, half-curled up in his lap. He considered jerking back, but realized he'd already relaxed under Tsuzuki's arm. "He's a complete ass- Hi Wakaba, it's Asato."

"Yeah, he's with me." Hisoka heard the shrill sound of Kannuki-san's voice, but couldn't make out her words. She sounded like she was yelling.

"How long? Well, a while. I'm sorry, I should have-

"Really, I totally blanked and then we spent the last ten minutes looking for the phone. My fault completely." Hisoka twisted his neck to look up at Tsuzuki. He mouthed the word 'liar.' Tsuzuki winked and Hisoka's cheeks burned.

"Dunno. Lemme check." Tsuzuki covered the receiver with his hand. An unnecessary precaution, since Kannuki-san wouldn't have understood the Japanese. "She wants to know if she should come by and pick you up. Are you ready to go?"

Hisoka was surprised to be given an option. He had invaded Tsuzuki's life, showing up and just staying. He meant to shrug, pretend he had no opinion but his mouth turned traitor.

"Not yet." Feeling the temperature of his already blushing face rise, Hisoka wondered just how red it was possible for a person to turn. Tsuzuki's responding smile seemed happy enough and his feelings echoed it.

"So I should tell her I'll drive you back later?" Hisoka stared up into bloodshot purple eyes.

"I'm not getting in a car with you tonight." He sighed. At least Tsuzuki wasn't offended by his reasoning, but he did read an increase of guilt. He couldn't tell if it was Tsuzuki's or his own. His question was going to be a selfish one. "Can she come get me a little later?"

Tsuzuki returned to the phone conversation.

"Tell you what, I'll keep him tonight and bring him round to your place in the morning. It's no trouble." Tsuzuki laughed. "I haven't had a slumber party in years. It'll be great. Thanks. Night, Wakaba."

"Suramba- pa-ti?" Hisoka sounded out the unfamiliar phrase. Tsuzuki chuckled. Hisoka's cheeks colored yet again. He'd forgotten Tsuzuki found the accent cute.

"Yep. Actually, I've never been to a slumber party, but generally they involve watching scary movies, eating unhealthy snacks, and talking about nothing."

"I don't like scary movies."

"That's okay."

"I'm not hungry."

"We don't have to eat."

"I don't feel like talking." Tsuzuki's hand stroked Hisoka's hair.

"That's fine, too."

Half awake, Hisoka started to roll out of bed and found himself encountering a cold wall. Opening his eyes, he saw that there was, indeed, a wall against the side of the bed. He blinked several times, but the wall didn't disappear. He pressed the palm of his hand against it. Definitely real, and definitely on the wrong side of the bed. Kannuki-san was not the type to rearrange his room while he was sleeping.

Hisoka sat up, remembering. He was not in his room; he must be in Tsuzuki's room. He must have fallen asleep on the sofa and Tsuzuki brought him here. A casual glance around the room showed Hisoka that it wasn't any different from the rest of the apartment. Just as impersonal with the same vague quality that no one would be staying here long. If anything, it was less inhabited than the outside room. No desk: a couple of books, a laptop charging and a stack of folders sat on the floor. In the only corner likely to receive sunlight was another plant. A small pit of darkness otherwise known as a closet was half open. Probably not much in it.

Curious, Hisoka climbed out of bed and approached the door to hell. His heart rate increased. He hated closets. His hand hesitated, touching the door. Silently he scolded himself. It's not like he was going to go in. Hisoka held his breath and opened the door.

Ordinary clothes. Just a closet, with organization levels about the same as the rest of the place, meaning none. No dark secrets hidden. A black trench coat had fallen off its hanger and lay crumpled on the floor. Hisoka's natural urge for neatness and order had him reach into the closet to pick it up. Glass clinked under it. Hurriedly, Hisoka released the coat from his hand, letting it fall to the floor with soft rush of air. He wasn't looking for Tsuzuki's secrets. Returning the door to its half open state, Hisoka noticed paper on the floor that had been stirred up when he dropped the coat. A photograph. He flipped it over to see the picture and nearly dropped it again from shock.

It was a picture of him and Tsuzuki.

It wasn't. It couldn't be. Firstly, no one had ever taken a picture of him and Tsuzuki. Secondly, he had never, ever, wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki in such a possessive, dog-marking-his-territory manner. About the only way the boy in the picture could have made it clearer that the man was his exclusive property would have required the photo to change its nature from cute tourist-type to erotica. Hisoka blushed at the too strong mental image of Tsuzuki on a leash. It fit far too well with his puppy-dog nature. Even in the photograph, Hisoka could see Tsuzuki's bright eyes shining with admiration, in much the same way a dog regards whoever usually feeds it. Not that the dog look didn't suit Tsuzuki. He didn't just look younger in the picture; he looked far happier and healthier. Looked. For the first time ever, Hisoka momentarily wished his empathy were expanded to include psychometry. He'd seen Tsuzuki smile like that before. Only empathy told him it was faked. Hisoka hoped that if not in the picture, than at some point, the smile wasn't false. Such a beautiful smile should be real.

Hisoka shook of such ridiculous thoughts and returned his attention to his twin. Near-twin, in reality. The boy in the picture had darker hair and skin, and his eyes were different, not just in color, but in expression. Although Hisoka knew the eyes of his near-twin were not as striking a green as he'd inherited from his mother, the boy's eyes seemed more alive than he was used to seeing his, even in the lifeless photograph. Maybe his eyes looked like that when they weren't looking in mirrors. The boy in the photo had to be Hijiri. Hisoka could remember Tsuzuki telling him about that boy. Tsuzuki's neighbor, schoolmate and good friend in Japan. Tsuzuki hadn't mentioned that they had been lovers, but from the photo they could have been nothing else.

Still holding the picture, Hisoka left the room and was startled to see Tsuzuki cooking. Apparently, he'd heard the door open, as he turned to Hisoka and smiled.

"Glad to see your up. Want some breakfast?" Tsuzuki offered. Hisoka scowled. Tsuzuki was making eggs. Not his idea of a great breakfast, but he was hungry.

"Didn't think drunks were morning people." Hisoka's tone was harsh, but he sat at the kitchen-counter, indicating willingness to try the food.

"Hisoka!" The whine had to be killing with the hangover Hisoka could tell Tsuzuki had, but it certainly wasn't enough to modify Tsuzuki's behavior. Leaving the food for a moment he leaned across the counter, resting his chin on his hand. "You're so mean."

"Idiot." Hiska turned away and found himself looking at the plants. There were three of them, all of different species, but he couldn't tell which types. To him, a houseplant was a houseplant. Tsuzuki probably knew what they were.

"Oh, I never introduced you, did I? Hisoka, these are Byakko, SohRyu, and Suzaku-neechan." Tsuzuki pointed out each plant as he said the names. Hisoka doubted he could tell them apart. Their names were rather familiar.

"You named them after Chinese gods? Is the one in your room Genbu?"

"What?" Tsuzuki laughed. "No, he's Tohda. I believe Tohda's an Aztec god."

"So a different religion gets him a different room?"

"No, Tohda…well he doesn't get along with the others." Hisoka stared blankly at Tsuzuki.

"He's a plant."

"Yeah, but he can be a pretty cranky one. Sohryu and Suzaku-neechan absolutely hate him. Byakko's pretty easy going, so I don't think he'd mind Tohda as much. But Tohda doesn't mind being alone."

"They're all plants."

"Yes, but - the food!" Tsuzuki suddenly noticed the burning eggs. He jerked the pan off the stove and frantically fanned at the smoke-filled air. "Eep!"

"Idiot." Hisoka barely whispered the word. He balanced the photograph in the leaves of one of the plants. Watching Tsuzuki attempt to save the food, he looked far more like the picture.

"Okay, it is a little burnt, but it's still edible." Tsuzuki carried over the charred mess and attempted to serve it. He almost dumped them in the middle of the counter after seeing the photo.

_LovePainJoyLoveGreifHappinessSorrowHurtLoveNeed_

_EmptyLack-Something missing-Need_

Hisoka's mind reeled. He could see the other boy - Hijiri. He smiled, a dirty smile that brought blood to places other than Hisoka's cheeks. Hijiri reached out to him, gently brushed his bangs. He felt the fingers run down his face. Suddenly intangible, they slipped through his neck. Hijiri was fading.

_LossMissingWantLackEmptyNeed_

_Tsuzuki!_

"Hisoka! Are you okay?" Hisoka awoke to a reality in which he was lying on the partially on the floor and partially in Tsuzuki's arms. At least he was already blushing.

"I'm fine." With Tsuzuki's help, he stood up. Tsuzuki's shields were strong enough that Hisoka only vaguely felt the Need. There was guilt, but Hisoka was certain it was his. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

"You're sorry? What the hell happened?" Worry started to leak out.

"I guess you'd call it an empathic seizure - a minor one. I'm fine now. Really." The concern was almost as irritating as it was comforting. "I am sorry."

"Where did you find that picture?" Hisoka was sure the shield was covering anger.

"It fell out of your hellhole." Tsuzuki was familiar with Hisoka's opinion of closets. "That's Hijiri, isn't it?"

"Yes." Tsuzuki's shield was so closed that Hisoka felt nothing. It was disturbing. He was so used to Tsuzuki's emotions leaking around him.

"He wasn't the 'closet case,' was he?" Hisoka picked at the few bits of egg that had made it onto his plate before Tsuzuki had noticed the photograph. It had absolutely no flavor.

"No, he wasn't." Tsuzuki's voice, at least, had returned to normal. "You still hungry?"

"No." Not for Tsuzuki's mangling of food.

"I guess I ought to take you home, then." Tsuzuki transferred the dishes to the sink.

"Please don't tell Kannuki-san. I'm fine now, and it'll just make her worry." Hisoka's voice trembled. He didn't know why he was asking; of course Tsuzuki would have to tell her.

"Do you swear that you're fine?" Hisoka nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I swear." Tsuzuki sighed.

"Then I won't tell her, but you've got to rest. Okay?"

"I promise." Grabbing his keys, Tsuzuki shook his head.

"I am such an idiot.

Okay, the random Byron Tsuzuki quotes is from "Darkness." Ruthven quotes "She Walks in Beauty." Confessions of a Mask isn't really that perverse, it just has some rather...interesting imagery, including a rather sexual depiction of the martyrdom of St. Sebastian.


	6. chapter 6

Chapter five. Posted early so I can finish this before vacation begins. Ha, I finally got some of the formating to work. Take that, lack of seperation. Please forgive the misspelled speach, I'm not very good at spelling anyway, and spelling things to look slurred is hard.

* * *

Hisoka was curled up on the sofa next to Tsuzuki. He felt warm, comfortable, relaxed. Alcohol was not his friend. To be more specific, the half-glass of champagne he'd drunk was not his friend. He was sleepy and his guard was down, both emotionally and empathically speaking. If anyone other than Tsuzuki were around, he'd probably be sick from their feelings. At least he wasn't on Phenobarbital anymore, considering all the warnings about not consuming alcoholic beverages while taking it due to poor interactions. He'd finally found his good excuse to stop the meds: scales. The skin on his upper abdomen had dried out and crusted in such a way as to resemble the skin of a snake. A bit of internet research had located scaly skin on a list of rare side effects, so unless he was afflicted with some family curse no one had informed him of, the meds were the cause. Armed with an explanation, he ignored doses and was no longer troubled with treatment for the wrong illness. 

Carefully, Hisoka placed his half-empty glass on the floor and pulled his feet up onto the couch so he wouldn't accidentally kick it over. He wished Tsuzuki had a table. His new position forced him to lean on Tsuzuki, but neither of them really minded. Or, rather, Hisoka didn't mind and Tsuzuki was too out of it to object. Thus the generalization that alcohol was not his friend applied.

Truthfully, Hisoka would have been surprised and probably alarmed if Tsuzuki hadn't gotten drunk. It was New Year's Eve and an integral part of celebrating this particular holiday was drinking. That Tsuzuki would take advantage of the opportunity to drink himself sick was to be expected, although Hisoka had wondered if Tsuzuki would be so open about it in front of him. Not that Hisoka hadn't seen Tsuzuki drunk before. Not that he wouldn't have noticed, probably even without empathy. Not that he hadn't been at least half-expecting a similar outcome of the evening when Tsuzuki agreed to the idea of the small "New Year's Party."

Tsuzuki's agreeing was more of a surprise to Hisoka. It wasn't that he thought Tsuzuki didn't genuinely like him, but what adult wants to give up their holiday entertainments to spend time with some kid? Sure, parents often had to, but Tsuzuki wasn't his father. Tsuzuki wasn't his big brother. Tsuzuki should have had something he wanted to do more, even if it was only getting drunk in a graveyard.

Tsuzuki confused him. He'd been pleased, excited even, to have Hisoka spend the night. It had been Tsuzuki's puppy-dog pleading and consistent assurances that it would be all right as much as Hisoka's calm request that had convinced Kannuki-san to allow him to stay over. Tsuzuki must have wanted him over. He _knew_ Tsuzuki had wanted him to come, he could tell. Tsuzuki's emotions were so hard to make sense of; there were too many and they were too contradictory. Maybe Tsuzuki just didn't want to be alone?

Though if all the man wanted was good company, Hisoka knew there were better choices than him. Mr. Phillips, or Tsuzuki's boyfriend. Thinking of that man made Hisoka shudder. His emotions were warped, twisted and dirty, and Hisoka hoped Tsuzuki had the sense to stay away from him. It was doubtful; Tsuzuki may have verbally dismissed the man as a bad date, but Hisoka could feel the attraction overriding, or perhaps encouraged by, the fear. Attraction encouraged by fear? Such thoughts only confused him further. Everything about Tsuzuki was confusing.

No, not quite. Not anymore. In the past two weeks, Hisoka had become quite certain that he loved Tsuzuki. Love. It was like friendship, but far beyond. It was similar to how others viewed families, but also very different. He'd never experienced anything romantic more than a simple crush but this wasn't like that at all, except maybe within the area of lust, which he did _not_ want to think about. He'd not even read any books about it aside from Tsuzuki's Christmas gift, and while he didn't feel the need to call Tsuzuki "Farm Boy" he was extremely interested in one of those kisses that made history. Hisoka sat up and climbed onto Tsuzuki's lap. He brushed bangs back from Tsuzuki's face. The purple eyes were closed. Hisoka wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. He wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki's neck and twisted to see the countdown on the television. He could feel his knees dig into Tsuzuki's stomach.

10...9...8...7...

Tsuzuki stirred.

"Wha' 's'it, 'Soka?"

...3...2...1

Bracing his hands against the back of the sofa, he leaned into Tsuzuki. Gently his lips first brushed, then pressed against Tsuzuki's. Underneath him, Tsuzuki reacted to the kiss, leaning into it. He dropped the glass he was still holding and it fell to the floor, the drink spilling across the carpet. Emotions drifted into Hisoka.

_Happiness._

_Enjoyment._

_Pleasure._

Tsuzuki's positive reactions were so strong, so overwhelming, it took Hisoka a minute to realize Tsuzuki's hands were pushing his shoulders back, forcing them out of the kiss.

"Wha' 're you doin'?" Hazy purple eyes conveyed a confusion that didn't match the emotions Hisoka was reading. Tsuzuki wasn't confused; he was mourning the end of their kiss.

"Isn't kissing someone at the New Year a tradition?" Hisoka kept his voice cold, but his face was hot. Damn over-active capillaries.

"Guysh ushilly kish gi-rlsh."

"But I'm gay." Hisoka took a shot with logic. Tsuzuki tried to find a flaw, stumbling through incoherent thoughts.

"Oh." Defeated by Hisoka's clever argument, Tsuzuki let his hands drop, sliding down Hisoka's arms. Hisoka leaned down to resume the kiss. Tsuzuki's physical response was subtle, but his emotional one was encouraging. Tsuzuki _wanted_ the kiss. Hisoka shifted on Tsuzuki's lap trying to keep his knees out of Tsuzuki's gut and wound up straddling him. Muscles protested, but Hisoka had other concerns. His tongue slipped through his lips, parting Tsuzuki's. It slid into Tsuzuki's mouth then right back out as Tsuzuki's previously inactive hands pushed him off again.

"I's wron', 'Soka." Hisoka bit back his impulse to sharply question why. Tsuzuki's feelings were completely at odds with his actions. Loss and Need shoved Hisoka off the sofa, away from the offending contact. When they had kissed, the Need had vanished from Hisoka's perception, as though it had been sated. Suddenly deprived of its drink, the Need had returned with its deep thirst. Absently, Hisoka's hand found his glass on the floor. He drained it, looking over the rim at glassy purple eyes. Tsuzuki's guilt disgusted him.

Hisoka wanted to be angry with Tsuzuki, but was just too tired. He retreated to his sleeping bag, turning to face the wall, refusing to look at Tsuzuki. The last of his anger released in his final comment on the evening. "You like it."

* * *

Wrapped in the warm blankets, Hisoka awoke with the feeling of evil. Something stood over him, watching him. Not something. Muraki. Hisoka tried not to move, tried not to breathe. He closed his eyes tight and tried to will away the demon. A hand he couldn't see stroked his hair and began peeling off the blankets. Hisoka tried to scream, but the evil forced his voice down his throat. Muraki's suffocating evil. He felt the blankets fall away from him and desperately tried to keep his eyes closed. Unwilling, he looked up, but all he could see of the shadowy figure were bright purple eyes. 

"Tsuzuki!"

* * *

Hisoka's eyes shot open and found themselves again locked with Tsuzuki's purple ones. Without thought, Hisoka threw himself into Tsuzuki's arms. He was embarrassed, scared, and sick and sought comfort in Tsuzuki's warm thoughts. There he was safe, secure and nauseous. Nauseous? 

"Tsuzuki. Bathroom. I need to go. Now." Released from Tsuzuki's embrace, Hisoka darted into the bathroom, slamming the door in Tsuzuki's concerned face. He locked it, knowing it was probably unnecessary, but unable to bear the idea of Tsuzuki watching him be sick. He'd barely raised the toilet seat before a wave of nausea pulled him to his knees. His mind felt disconnected from his body. Faintly, he registered the sound of retching. His stomach ceased to twist and he came back to himself, looking down at the still, clear toilet water.

Still? Clear?

Hisoka unlocked and opened the bathroom door. Tsuzuki was on his hands and knees just outside the door, over a wet, smelly mound of vomit. His hair had fallen forward and mostly covered his face, but Hisoka thought he could see a trace of spittle hanging from Tsuzuki's mouth. Altogether a grotesque, pathetic picture.

"You okay now, Hisoka?" The unexpected words almost caused Hisoka to lose his balance. Tsuzuki was sick and still asking if he was all right?

"I'm fine. Idiot." Hisoka couldn't give the word its usual sting. He couldn't quite say, "I'm sorry," either, though he managed to ask, "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess I had a little too much to drink last night, huh?" Tsuzuki sat back on his knees and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His wet hair stuck to the sides of his face. Hisoka thought about pointing out the incredible understatement of "a little too much" but merely sighed. If Tsuzuki had seen a mirror, he'd never have tried to get away with it. The beautiful eyes were almost more red than their usual purple, and they still had a glazed look in them. His skin was slightly gray and in spite of the cheerful tone in his voice, Hisoka would have been surprised if the man was even able to stand. "I'm sorry, Hisoka."

"You're sorry? I locked you out of the bathroom." Hisoka stood in the bathroom doorway, looking down at Tsuzuki. He felt so guilty, and hoped it was only his own guilt.

"But you were sick because of me, right?" Hisoka couldn't answer that. It was true, but to say so would hurt Tsuzuki even more. Of course, Tsuzuki must have considered his silence as an agreement, considering the increase of guilt he felt. It had to stop; Tsuzuki felt guilty and his guilt made Hisoka feel guilty. It was not a decent way to start a morning.

Tsuzuki got up slowly, using the doorframe for support. Hisoka almost backed away, but instead froze just inside the door. As he looked up at Tsuzuki, the nausea returned. Hisoka took his arm and pulled him into the bathroom. This time, Tsuzuki made it to the toilet. Hisoka ended up on the edge of the small bathtub. He was torn between the thought that he should leave Tsuzuki alone and his impulse to do something comforting. Three times he reached out to push back Tsuzuki's hair, but his hand would always stop before there was any contact. Irritated with himself, Hisoka snatched a towel from the rack. He wet it at the sink and dropped it onto Tsuzuki's neck.

"San kyu, Hisoka."

"Idiot."

"I know."

* * *

Tsuzuki sighed. He wasn't acting like himself. Rather, he was acting like himself when he was alone. He never behaved like that around other people, especially children. Children. Hisoka was hardly a child. Sixteen was close to adulthood. Certainly adult enough to kiss someone. Not him, of course, but someone. The senior Hisoka had mentioned to him, perhaps. He sounded nice. Better for Hisoka than a crush on him. 

_Idiot._

Hisoka was right about him; he was a complete idiot. He should have noticed Hisoka's crush. He should have expected it. It wasn't something new. Every adolescent female whose case he'd been given had made some sort of pass at him. Even most of the younger ones made some mention of wanting to marry him. To assume Hisoka wouldn't fall for him, just because he was male, was beyond stupid. He was the adult; he was the one who should know better. What had he been thinking, allowing Hisoka to stay over? Letting Hisoka kiss him?

If he didn't know what, specifically, he had been thinking, he knew how. He'd been thinking selfishly. He'd wanted company and Hisoka's request had seemed an answer. He'd enjoyed spending time with Hisoka; it had never occurred to him why Hisoka would enjoy spending time with him.

_IdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiot!_

Hisoka did not seem like – was not – the silly adolescent crush type. He was as strong, as confident, as self assured as Hijiri. He was also as delicate, as tender as Tats. Shit! He was not comparing Hisoka to his ex-es. Hisoka was a child who did not need to waste even the smallest part of his life with a crush on such a pathetic excuse for a human being. The boy shouldn't have to waste his time getting wet cloths for the terminally hung-over.

"I guess I'd better get started on the clean-up." Tsuzuki took the towel from his neck and chewed on a corner. The cool water felt good in his dry mouth, though it didn't come close to quenching his thirst. Water never did. Hisoka didn't react to his comment. Tsuzuki went to the kitchen and got paper towels. Hisoka still hadn't moved when Tsuzuki returned, nor did he move as Tsuzuki began scraping up as much of the now semi-solid vomit as was possible. It wasn't until Tsuzuki was scrubbing the carpet with detergent that Hisoka spoke.

"Will that work?" His voice was filled with scathing contempt. Tsuzuki had to smile.

"It's not like I've never puked on carpet before. I know what I'm doing." Hisoka snorted. As bad an idea as making the comparison was, he really was just like Hijiri.

* * *

"Tsuzuki? Last night….well…" Hisoka blushed deeply. Bringing up his clumsy actions wasn't something he wanted to do, but he owed Tsuzuki an apology. 

"Oh, I kinda fell asleep on you, didn't I? Sorry about that. Did you make it to midnight?"

"Yes, I was up." Hisoka's mind reeled. Tsuzuki didn't remember? Tsuzuki had to be lying. Hisoka felt no additional stress, no additional guilt, but that didn't mean anything. Tsuzuki's emotions didn't change when he lied. "May I ask you a question?"

"Just did. But ask another." Hisoka rolled his eyes. He felt Tsuzuki's confusion. Understandable, he'd never been this polite to Tsuzuki. Still, it wasn't right to assume Tsuzuki was lying just because Hisoka couldn't tell one way or the other. It wasn't fair.

"At midnight, the TV had all these pictures of people kissing whoever they were standing next to. Is that the tradition? Just kissing whoever's there?"

"Well, I don't think it was supposed to be like that, but, yeah, that's pretty much how it turns out."

"So, then, if I'd kissed you last night, it would have been appropriate? You wouldn't have been angry?"

"Well, I don't know about appropriate," Tsuzuki's emotions were squirming, sliding out around his shields. Uncertainty, nervousness, anxiety, fear, even regret. "I wouldn't be angry. It would take so much more than that to make me angry with you."

"Promise?" A twisted idea formed in Hisoka's head.

"Promise."

"Well…." Hisoka took a deep breath and tried to will away his blush. "CanIkissyounow?"

"What?" Hope and fear rushed over Tsuzuki's shields. Hisoka closed his eyes.

"Can. I. Kiss. You.?" Hisoka walked over to the bathroom door. Kneeling in the doorway, he was at eyelevel with Tsuzuki. "I want to know if I can. Kiss someone, I mean."

"Hisoka-"

"Please? Since Mur – since he – well, every guy, even friends, just being near them is scary. I want…." Hisoka couldn't finish the sentence. Tsuzuki sat up on his heels, but otherwise was unresponsive. Hisoka reached out with his hand and gently brushed back Tsuzuki's bangs, resting his hand on Tsuzuki's neck. "Please?"

"This isn't-" Hisoka pushed Tsuzuki's neck with his hand, drawing the man towards him. The kiss was light, gentle and quick. "You taste sweet."

The words were involuntary. Tsuzuki's cheeks were almost as red as Hisoka's.

"You taste of vomit. Brush your teeth."

* * *

Scales is actually one of the side effects of Phenobarbital. If you don't find this funny, you haven't read the Kurosaki familly history from the last couple of volumes of manga. The present Hisoka refers to is _The Princess Bride_ by William Goldman. Why haven't you read it? Read it. 

Oh, and review. Now. Or the ending won't be posted until after winter break.


	7. chapter 7

Last chapter, finally. Actually, in spite of having so much time to fiddle with this, I'm not really happy with the writing in this one. Especially the end of this part and all of the last. Oh, this chapter was posted in two parts. Partially because it's just too long, otherwise.

* * *

Terrance tapped his pencil in time with the second hand on the clock. Asato was ten minutes late coming back from lunch. Not a good sign. In the past month Asato had gone from having good days and bad days to having bad days and worse days. When today had begun, Terrance could tell it was going to be far beyond bad. It had started with the roses. Flowers covered Asato's desk. Red roses. Lord Ruthven had been busy. Asato's empty smile had been frozen on his face as soon as he'd seen the roses. Of course he'd politely thanked Lord Ruthven, and acted sufficiently eager in accepting the pervert's invitation to lunch.

The lunch had seemed a mixed blessing. Asato was always at his best around other people; he never wanted to worry anyone. Terrance had tried to eat with him everyday, hoping to keep him in line. For the most part it worked; Asato held himself together during working hours. But Terrance couldn't eat with Asato everyday, today especially. He'd had a Valentine's Day lunch planned with his wife. Asato would not have enjoyed it. As much as Terrance hated Lord Ruthven, he'd thought the bastard could keep Asato occupied.

Though judging from the smile on his face when that man had returned from lunch just a few minutes late, the vampire had kept Asato more occupied than Terrance liked to think about.

Terrance almost laughed with relief when Asato rushed in carrying a soda from some fast food "restaurant." Sexual ecstasy or not Asato would never skip lunch. Terrance's relief was short-lived. In his haste, Asato stumbled and almost fell, catching himself against a wall. As he regained his balance, a muffled giggle escaped his lips. Grinning stupidly, he walked to his desk with exaggerated care. Terrance sighed. The occasional misspoken word or glassy-eyed look could be ignored. Their job was a stressful one and few of the others in the office could say they'd never had a few drinks at lunch. Coming in to work shit-faced, however, was inexcusable. Even Asato had never done it before, more out of respect for any children he might see than any concept of decency.

Terrance left his own work and stood behind Asato's desk. His friend seemed to be trying to read from a file. Absently he sipped at the drink Terrance was willing to bet money was not soda and crushed the thorns of one of the roses into his left hand.

"Asato?" Terrance whispered the name. Asato jumped slightly and slid off his chair. He looked up at Terrance from the floor.

"Yeah, Tats?" Asato's voice wasn't much louder than Terrance's whisper had been. Terrance almost smiled. Asato had never been a loud drunk. Often a manically cheerful drunk, occasionally a depressed drunk, but never loud and obnoxious. That was saved for when he was sober. Terrance turned his expression into a frown of concern.

"You don't look at all well. Are you feeling alright?"

"'M fine." From his position on the ground Asato tried to look fine. He might have had better luck if his eyes would focus on the same spot for more than a second, but he was sitting on the floor, so he might not.

"I hardly think so." Terrance had never spoken words so seriously. He leaned down and pressed the back of his hand against Asato's forehead. "As I suspected, you're burning up. You shouldn't be here."

"But-"

"No excuses, I'm taking you home." Abruptly Terrance pulled Asato off the floor and scooped the smaller man into his arms.

"You're carrin' me?" This time Asato's voice carried far enough to attract attention. Terrance tried to look as though his behavior was routine.

"Of course. It's faster." He pocketed Asato's keys.

"What the hell is going on?" Terrance turned slowly to face Lord Ruthven.

"Sir-" Asato yelped.

"Asato is unwell." Terrance interrupted. "I'm taking him home. You shouldn't have tired him out when he was getting sick."

"He didn't seem sick at lunch."

"You know Asato, he never likes to complain. At times I think he positively enjoys suffering." Terrance smiled, as politely as he could manage. "You should let him rest."

Implied threat hanging in the air, Terrance carried his friend out of the room.

"My hero." Asato took a sip of the drink Terrance hadn't seen him bring. "Just like old times, hmm?"

"You should throw that out."

"Liquids are good for sick people."

"Soda isn't."

"S'not soda." Terrance sighed.

"I didn't think it was."

* * *

"HISOKA!"

"What did you get us?"

"Why would I get you anything?" Hisoka snarled at the girls. They really didn't bother him as much as they used to, but there was no reason to tell _them_ that.

"It's Valentine's Day, Hisoka." He was fairly certain that one was Saya.

"So?"

"You're should give us Valentines." Maybe that one was Saya. They may have been less annoying, but that did not make them individuals.

"Girls give gifts to boys on Valentine's Day. Boys give their gifts on White Day." The girls stared at him, obviously confused.

"White Day?"

"Boys give girls gifts on Valentine's Day."

"You're sure?" Both girls nodded in perfect synchronization. "Shit."

* * *

"Did you even eat lunch?" Asato sat slouched in the passenger seat.

"I wasn't hungry."

"Are you now?"

"No." Asato played with the straw in his now empty drink. "I'm thirsty, though."

"Forget it."

"Ah, you're mean, Tats. You're mean, Hijiri was mean, Hisoka's mean…."

"Hisoka?"

"Always calling me an idiot. 'Least I wasn' dumb enough to fall in love with me."

"Hisoka's in love with you?" Terrance was surprised, but not by the concept. Many of the children they dealt with at work didn't have positive males in their lives. Girls were often "falling in love" with him and Asato and every other male in the office. He'd come to accept it as part of the job. Asato had always done the same, for him to be talking about it meant at least some aspect of it was serious.

"Thinks he is, which is the same thing to a teenager. He's pretty cute about it." Asato frowned. "Wasn't so cute in the dream."

"What dream?" Terrance was a little afraid to ask. Asato rarely mentioned dreams. Once he had told Terrance about a dream he'd had. Terrance couldn't remember how it had come up. Asato had mentioned that he'd dreamt about him and Terrance had asked about the dream.

"_I dreamt about us. You left to take your shower as usual, but you never came back. I could hear you walking around. You left me tied to the bed."_

It was the closest thing to a complaint he'd ever heard from Asato. The only indication that he might not enjoy himself as much as Terrance had thought. It had worried him.

"_No, it's no big deal. Just don't forget to untie me when you're done."_

Terrance hated that expression. "…when you're done." Asato often had used phrases like that, phrases that implied he was something less than a person. Terrance had never been able to convince him otherwise.

"….know what it's called?" Asato's question brought his mind back to the present.

"What what's called?"

"You weren' lis'ning? Told'ya you 're mean."

"I have to drive." Terrance snapped. He hadn't meant to daydream.

"F'it's so hard for you, I could drive." Asato grinned. Terrance had to smile. Asato was not stupid. He knew why he was being driven home.

"But you have to tell me about the dream you had."

"Right. Hisoka and Hijiri were dressed for that traditional archery thing, wha'ever it's called, and they shot me-"

"They shot you?"

"Well, I was tied to a tree. I think they were suppose to kill me. After they ran out of arrows, Hisoka cuts me down and starts pullin' the arrows out. He could tell I was still alive. He licked the blood off the arrowheads and said somethin' like: guess I've got to fix that too. Tha's it. I woke up after that."

"I don't know him very well, hardly at all," Terrance was worried. Something about the dream was extremely disturbing. "But that doesn't seem like Hisoka."

"Nope. Not cute at all."

* * *

"What do guys usually give girls on Valentine's Day? Are chocolates good?"

"Chocolates are good. Any candy really."

"Or flowers. Jewelry, too."

"But you don't have a girl, right?"

"Do you have a guy, Hisoka?"

"Uh…well…" Hisoka blushed.

"You do! Hisoka's got a boyfriend."

"Tell us about him!"

"He's not my boyfriend. He's…" Hisoka quickly planned an experiment to determine how facial color related to level of embarrassment. He would be his own best test subject. "He's something. Can I give a guy any of the stuff a guy might give a girl?"

"I don't think I'd give a guy jewelry."

"Some guys wear jewelry, though."

"But not many. And some guys wouldn't like flowers."

"Everybody likes candy. That's your best bet."

* * *

"You don't have coffee?" Terrance was shocked. Of all the people in the world, Asato was the last person he expected to live without coffee.

"Don't like it."

"How do you get up in the morning?"

"Stomach muscles and leg muscles, working on orders from my brain. Just like everyone else." It was a sarcastic statement, but Asato's tone gave no indication of such. Terrance glared at him from the kitchen. "There's tea on the counter."

"Do you want anything in your tea?" Terrance began heating water in the microwave. It was not the best way to make tea, but Terrance had decided he'd rather be sitting with Asato watching him drink lousy tea than standing in the kitchenette waiting for water to boil.

"Nothing you'll add." The words weren't spoken loudly, but Terrance heard them. He turned around to check on his friend. Asato had lain down on the sofa and appeared to be staring vacantly at the ceiling. Watching Asato breath, Terrance was utterly entranced. The short rise and fall of Asato's chest showed respiration both shallow and slow. One arm, bent into the back of the sofa, shielded Asato's eyes from the overhead light. The other had fallen off the edge of the seat and the back of the hand rested lightly on the floor. He didn't hear the microwave timer beep. Suddenly Asato sat up and looked at the door. Terrance, brought back to reality, looked over just in time to see Hisoka walk in.

* * *

Hisoka hadn't expected Tsuzuki to be at home. He'd intended to leave the candy he'd bought, perhaps with a note, and hide in his room at Kannuki-san's. Seeing Tsuzuki sitting there shocked him.

"Why are you here?" Hisoka blushed. He was the one sneaking in; he didn't have the right to be rude. Tsuzuki laughed.

"I live here." Tsuzuki spoke in English. "Tats was making me lunch. Do you want anything?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine." Hisoka had been standing uncertainly in the doorway. Tsuzuki's question drew him inside. Although uninvited, he was not unwelcome, at least not from Tsuzuki's perspective. Mr. Phillips' feelings were very unwelcoming. Frighteningly unwelcoming.

Hisoka had never registered any strong emotions from Mr. Phillips any of the other few times they had met. Mr. Phillips was hardly an emotional void, but he was generally calm and his feelings reflected it. The feelings Hisoka saw as he entered the apartment were violent, unfriendly and tainted with jealousy.

"Am I interrupting…?" Hisoka realized he was half asking Mr. Phillips. Tsuzuki answered.

"Nope. Nothing at all. What brings you by here?" Tsuzuki gestured for Hisoka to join him on the couch. Hisoka took a plastic bag out of his backpack before going over.

"It's Valentine's Day." Hisoka dumped the bag of various candies onto the sofa, snatching the receipt up and stuffing it into his pocket before Tsuzuki noticed. "I don't really like sweet things, so I thought you'd want some."

"Wow, Hisoka. I never realized you were so popular." Something was wrong with Tsuzuki. Hisoka hadn't noticed at first, protecting himself from the torrent of Mr. Phillips' emotions. Tsuzuki felt empty; there were not emotions leaking into Hisoka at all. His shields were too strong for everything to be alright.

"What's wrong?" Hisoka didn't realize at first that he'd spoken aloud. In the kitchen, Terrance nearly dropped the brewed tea.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Uso yo!" Hisoka snapped, forgetting English, forgetting polite behavior in his anger. Shields crumbled, pulling masks down with them. Tsuzuki was crying. Hisoka froze, paralyzed by guilt and uncertain whose. "Tsuzuki…."

"Go… gomen nasai, Hisoka." Hisoka pushed aside the chocolates and sat next to Tsuzuki on the sofa. Wrapping his arms around Tsuzuki's neck, he pulled Tsuzuki's head closer to his. Gently he stroked Tsuzuki's hair and kissed the tears that trailed down Tsuzuki's face.

* * *

The boy had to be exceptionally perceptive. Terrance had seen Asato's smile when Hisoka appeared. Even having known him since college, even having spent the afternoon with him, Terrance could almost be convinced that the smile was genuine. Asato had transformed his appearance from passive lump of flesh to hyper puppy as soon as the child opened the door. It frightened Terrance, that Asato was so good at the deception. Yet without years of knowing him, without having just seen him so miserable, the boy had been able to tell that something was wrong. Terrance knew that if he had been the one to walk in the door, he never would have noticed.

When Asato had told him Hisoka was an empath, he'd taken it for granted that the boy had lied. Terrance had never believed in ESP or any other mystical mental power. Seeing the boy question Asato's state of mind, he wished he could believe it. If the boy weren't in some way psychic, it would mean that Hisoka was more attentive to Asato's feelings than anyone else. It would mean that, in such a short amount of time, Hisoka had come to know Asato better than he did.

"Hisoka," His voice was harsh, but no more than the situation demanded. Although Asato was the adult, Terrance couldn't help but feel that Hisoka was the one taking advantage of the situation. "We need to have a talk."

"We do." Hisoka had stopped playing with Asato's hair and was watching Terrance, his expression somewhere between fear and anger. He gave Asato a final kiss on the forehead and rose from the sofa. His voice was quiet. "Did you ever tell him?"

"What?"

"Did you ever tell him that you loved him?" Hisoka was still whispering, trying to keep the words for Terrance alone.

"I…" Terrance stammered. He was not supposed to be nervous. He was supposed to be lecturing Hisoka on inappropriate behaviors, not receiving romantic counsel. Terrance raised his voice. "Listen, your behavior – Asato isn't-"

"Asleep or deaf." Terrance and Hisoka turned their attention to the sofa. Asato was no longer crying. He seemed to have regained control. "You know, Tats, I think maybe I should have this talk with Hisoka. In private."

Terrance wanted to object, but refusing Asato had never been one of his strong points. He left quickly, as close to tears as he'd come since his sophomore year of college.

* * *

"Was he the 'closet case' you talked about?" Hisoka continued watching the door after Mr. Phillips left.

"What?" Tsuzuki had left his seat on the couch and was in the kitchen, making a drink more to his liking. Hisoka watched him and rolled his eyes.

"Did you ever date him?"

"No. What makes you ask that?"

"He feels…," It took Hisoka a minute to find the right word. "…possessive of you."

"Oh? Well, Tats is like that." If it had been anyone other than Tsuzuki, Hisoka would have called him a liar. The emotional shift signaled "lie" for most people. Tsuzuki's emotions, however, weren't changed by his lies, leaving Hisoka to ponder the meaning of the squirming guilt and stress. "Do you want some tea?"

"No." Hisoka knelt and began gathering the candy that had fallen on the floor. Tsuzuki came back from the kitchen, unusually silent. Hisoka didn't look up as Tsuzuki sat down, his knees about level with Hisoka's head.

"We have to talk." Tsuzuki's stress didn't come out in his voice, but his shields showed obvious signs of strain. Hisoka kept his eyes glued to the ground, pretending to search for the chocolates he'd already found.

"I love you." Hisoka felt no warmth in his cheeks, knew his face hadn't turned its usual shade of red. He had chosen his words carefully. _Koi_ shiteru. A love with passion. A love with desire.

"Hisoka…" Tsuzuki sounded calm and patient. How he felt was an entirely different matter. Hisoka had never read such high levels of stress from anyone.

_Pain._

_Anger._

_Guilt._

_Denial._

Denial?

"Hisoka, you're not … not really in love with me." It almost sounded like a question.

"And when did you become an empath?" Hisoka snarled. He drew a deep breath, calmed himself and tried to explain without sounding overly frustrated. "I've seen people in love. Not many, but some. I know what love is, Tsuzuki. I love you."

"Sometimes what you feel isn't what you think it is."

"What is it, then? I've had crushes before, so don't tell me it's that."

"I wouldn't call it a crush. Well, did you know that Kazusa asked me to marry her?"

"What?" Jealousy. Not Tsuzuki's, not Mr. Phillips', his own. He was jealous of a six-year-old who Tsuzuki wasn't interested in anyway. Hisoka would have laughed at himself if Tsuzuki hadn't continued.

"Yeah. Not just her, a lot of the girls I work with. They see a safe, stable male. For some of them, I'm the first guy they've known who's like that. So they think they're in love with me." Hisoka felt Tsuzuki's hand brushing the top of his head, stroking his hair. It should have been a condescending pat, but the way Tsuzuki did it and how he felt while doing it made it something else. The contact was acceptable, gentle, even loving. "It's not just me. It happens with Tats, too and pretty much everyone else. That's just the way it is. There's nothing wrong with it."

"You're not stable." Hisoka's mind finally processed Tsuzuki's argument.

"What?"

"You said the girls see you as safe and stable and that's why they fall in love with you. But you're not stable." Hisoka looked up, suddenly afraid he'd offended Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki was actually more relaxed and laughing.

"True. But most people don't know that."

"I'm not most people, am I?"

"You're not." Hisoka started. There was something unexpected in Tsuzuki's emotions that colored his speech. He couldn't quite describe the feeling, but it gave the words a wistful tone. "You certainly are not."

"They're right about you being safe, though. You feel very safe." It was a corny way of phrasing it, but Hisoka could imagine no other means of conveying the concept. Tsuzuki simply felt safe.

"Feeling safe with me is no reason to fall in love with me."

"Idiot." Hisoka barely suppressed a smile. Tsuzuki hadn't said "think." Subconsciously, at least, he was acknowledging Hisoka's feelings. "I didn't fall in love with you because you felt safe. I feel safe with you because I love you. I love you, Tsuzuki."

_Ai_ shiteru. Selfless love. True love.

Hisoka let the candies he'd gathered fall back to the floor. They weren't that important anymore, had never truly been. He wrapped his now empty hands around Tsuzuki's. They felt surprisingly cold. Warm emotions withdrew behind shields, increasing the chill.

"You shouldn't, Hisoka."

Hisoka reached for Tsuzuki's feelings, but only caught a few wisps that seeped past the shield.

_Despair._

_Guilt._

_Need._

Nothing else could be understood; it was too well hidden.

"Why not?" Hisoka moved from the floor to the sofa. He leaned closer to Tsuzuki and felt shields close so tight there was no longer the slightest hint of Need. "Why shouldn't I?"

"I'm ten years older than you."

"My father is fifteen years older than my mother. He's eight or nine years older than his wife."

"They're older. Age differences mean much more when you're young. You're only sixteen."

"Age means nothing to people in love." For a brief moment the shields were gone and emotional floods threatened to overrun Hisoka's mind. Dizzy, he fell back on his heels, squeezing Tsuzuki's hands tighter. Defenses slammed back into place.

"I'm not in love with you." The words were a lie. Hisoka was certain of that. He had spent as much time examining Tsuzuki's emotions as his own.

"You are." Abruptly, Tsuzuki stood and went to the kitchen. Hisoka's hand fell to his lap. Cold as Tsuzuki's hands had been, Hisoka's hands were colder without them. "Which of us are you lying to?"

"Hisoka-"

"If you're just lying to me, there's no point. I know how you feel. If you're lying to yourself, I can show you." Hisoka stood and joined Tsuzuki in the kitchen. Tsuzuki was refilling his glass.

"Show me?" He put his drink down.

"What do you feel, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka slipped his arms around Tsuzuki's shoulders.

"His-" Hisoka tugged on Tsuzuki's neck, forcing his face down. Standing on tip toe, he gently brought their lips together.

"What do you feel, Tsuzuki?"

_Guilty._

_Dirty._

"I'm not in love with you!"

_Desperate._

"Idiot!" Hisoka snapped. He stepped forward onto Tsuzuki's feet and violently jerked the older man's head down into an aggressive, passionate kiss. "What do you feel?"

"Hisoka…I…." Tears filled Tsuzuki's eyes and ran down his face. Hisoka reached up and brushed them away.

"You're upset. You shouldn't be…. I know what you feel, but I don't know why. Tell me."

"I can't be in love with you."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong."

"Wrong? How is it wrong?" Hisoka practically screamed. Remembering the thickness of apartment walls he lowered his voice. "It's not because we're guys, it's not because I'm sixteen. You already told me I was normal. What makes it wrong?"

"Why do you love me, Hisoka?" Tired. Tsuzuki sounded tired, felt tired.

"I don't know, exactly. I…just do." It wasn't enough of an answer. "You're a kind, loving, gentle, wonderful-"

"-stupid, pedophilic drunk-" Tsuzuki threw his glass in the sink hard enough to break it.

"Tsuzuki!"

"It's true. I'm worthless, Hisoka." He reached for his glass, remembered what he'd done with it, sighed and took out a new one.

"It's not true!"

"It is."

"It can't be!" Hisoka's voice caught in a sob. Instantly Tsuzuki's glass was on the counter and his arms were around Hisoka. Feelings of comfort pushed past the self-hatred to ease the tears. "You're everything to me, Tsuzuki."

"Hisoka…"

"Will you eat the candy I brought?"

"We can't do this, Hisoka."

"We're not doing anything. I was just wondering if you wanted the candy I got you."

"Of course I want it. That doesn't mean I should eat it."

"I wouldn't have offered it to you if I didn't want you to eat it."

"I know. That still doesn't mean I should eat your candy."

"Please?" Hisoka didn't have Tsuzuki's experience in puppy dog looks, but he tried. "I bought it for you."

"Bought it?"

"You didn't think I was that popular, did you?" Hisoka blushed again. He had wanted to tell Tsuzuki the origin of the candy, but at the same time he'd wanted Tsuzuki to think he had that many potential admirers.

"I can't imagine the existence of a single person who wouldn't want to give you a valentine." Lightly, Tsuzuki planted a kiss on Hisoka's forehead. "I can't say no when you look so cute. But you've got to eat some too, okay?"

The shrill ring of a telephone interrupted Hisoka's response. Tsuzuki rolled his eyes and hunted down the cordless. It was half-under a sofa cushion.

"Hello?

"Yes, he's here. Hadn't he told you?" Tsuzuki glared at Hisoka's horrified expression. He'd forgotten to call Kannuki-san. Again.

"Well, it's really my fault," Tsuzuki addressed Kannuki-san. "I should have thought-

"No, it's not-

"You don't need to. I can-" Tsuzuki sighed and hung up the phone. "She'll be here in a few minutes. I think you should have called her."

"Was she angry?"

"Are my eyes purple?"

"They are a ravishing, deep shade of amethyst."

"Ravishing?" Tsuzuki gave Hisoka a curious look.

"I…well…" The color in Hisoka's cheeks rose once more. "I've expanded my reading to include a few new authors."

"Please, not Danielle Steele."

"Shut up and eat your chocolates." Laughing, Tsuzuki picked up two of the candies of the couch and offered one to Hisoka. Hisoka took the candy kiss, but didn't unwrap it. He watched Tsuzuki peel the foil and casually toss the chocolate in his mouth.

"Hey, Hisoka, there's notes on these wrappers." Tsuzuki looked at the little strip of paper that came with each candy kiss. "Mine says 'I love you.' What does yours say?"

"'Enjoy a kiss.'" Hisoka read, partially opening his candy.

"You should, then." Hisoka leaned across the sofa and kissed Tsuzuki deeply, his tongue brushing the small remnants of chocolate left in Tsuzuki's mouth.

"I've never been a big fan of sweets," Hisoka began, his lips inches away from Tsuzuki's, "but these chocolate kisses are incredible."

"My favorite." Tsuzuki murmured.

"I don't know if I should trust this." Hisoka spoke half to himself.

"What do you mean?" Assurance and love wrapped around Hisoka, warming him.

"It's just…. You seem so happy Tsuzuki."

"That's a problem? You were just complaining that I was unhappy."

"Right. Three seconds ago you were miserable, now your content."

"Three seconds?" Tsuzuki grinned. "I guess it's just that my worst fears have come true."

"That makes you happy?"

"Not at first." Tsuzuki took the chocolate still in Hisoka's hand. "But my worst fear was that you loved me. How unhappy should being loved make me?"

"That's my chocolate." Tsuzuki finished unwrapping the candy and popped it in his mouth.

"You weren't eating it. I thought you were done." Hisoka kissed Tsuzuki again, stealing back a considerably smaller candy. Tsuzuki narrowed his eyes in mock anger. "You should be careful. Grudges over food run deep."

"Do you want it back?" Hisoka challenged. Tsuzuki appeared to be considering when the doorbell startled them. Hisoka gathered his school things while Tsuzuki answered the door. Kannuki-san was still fuming. She stood in the entrance with her arms crossed, glaring. Hisoka paused as he stepped out the door.

"Ai shiteru, Tsuzuki."

"Ai shiteru." Tsuzuki responded automatically.

"Now that sounds nice." Kannuki-san smiled slightly. "What does that mean?"

"I asked Tsuzuki if I could come by tomorrow. He said it was alright." Hisoka replied. His smile appeared suspiciously like a smirk.

"Only if that's okay with you, Wakaba." Tsuzuki hastily added, then turned to Hisoka. "And not until after five. It was luck on your part that I happened to be home at lunch today."

"May I, Kannuki-san?" Hisoka kept his voice even.

"We'll see." Kannuki-san did not sound at all like she would permit it, but Hisoka knew her anger was generally short lived. He would see Tsuzuki tomorrow.

* * *

Final notes: Tsuzuki's dream, for those who aren't interested in religious history or haven't read _Confessions of a Mask_, is my butchered version of St. Sebastian's martyrdom. Oh, and a warning. The next part is not so happy. 


	8. chapter 7, part 2

Part 2 of the last chapter. Remember, this is the not so happy part.

* * *

Two notes. One for Tats, one for Hisoka. Pathetic, in all his life, the only people he needed to say anything to were an ex-boyfriend and a kid.

Hisoka was not a kid. Well, not just a kid.

Dismissing Hisoka as a child was unkind. Hisoka was young, but hardly a child, far more mature. And sweet. Loving. Adorable. Beautiful. Perfect.

And this was hardly a productive train of thought. Not that anything he would do today would be productive. Not that anything he ever did was productive.

Except maybe getting off his ass and finding a place to put the notes. With the plants, perhaps. Not with Suzaku-neechan, she wouldn't like that. And if he couldn't leave them with her, he couldn't leave them with Soh Ryu or Byakko either. That left Tohda. Tohda would do it.

Tohda would do it. As though a plant could be an active participant in the delivery of a message. He balanced the notes in the branches. His room might be a little out of the way for the notes. He carried Tohda's pot out of his bedroom and set it down in front of the couch. Easier to find, but something was still wrong. Tohda needed company. He went back into his room for Rico.

Rico was a cactus. Hisoka'd given it to him for Christmas. Nameless, of course, but he'd teased Hisoka for hours until one was picked. Rico wasn't the most brilliant of names, but it was his favorite. Hisoka came up with it. Originally Rico had lived on the counter with the others, but that hadn't worked out. Rico was too wild for Soh Ryu's dignity and Suzaku-neechan was just plain jealous. So Rico had moved next to Tohda. Tohda hadn't been too pleased at first, but he'd come to enjoy the company. Come to depend on the company.

His plants had more detailed lives than he did. If that wasn't sad….

He turned on the faucet, filling the bath tub with hot water. Almost too hot, but that hardly mattered. Hotter water would probably be better. The tub was filling quickly. Where was the razor?

With Tohda, of course. Only Tohda would keep it out of sight, but still give it back when he needed it.

He knocked the letters over digging the razor out. Putting them back, he pricked his finger on one of Rico's spines. On his way to get a band aid he stopped and laughed. There really wasn't much point.

He set the razor on the sink and shut the tap. The tub was full. The water was still too warm, but it wasn't scalding. He folded his clothes as he took them off. He could at least be neat. Holding the razor in his left hand, he climbed into the bath and sat down. The water really was too hot. His hand shook. He needed a drink.

No.

For this one thing he needed not to have a drink. For this he had to be sober.

The first cut was too far over and too shallow. The second cut was deep, but he wasn't sure it was in the right place. The third cut seemed right. Blood poured out of it faster than he'd expected. He let his arm sink under the water. The blood would flow down the drain with the water. Less mess, easy clean-up.

In spite of the warm water, Tsuzuki was very cold.

* * *

Hisoka woke already flushed. His dream had been unusually pleasant. Pleasant didn't even come close to describing it. He hadn't dreamt like that in a long time. Not that his recent dreams were completely devoid of sex. They just were full of Muraki. It had been over a year since he'd dreamt of one without the other. Tsuzuki was a much better subject for dreams. Lying in bed, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, back to the delicious dream. He would have, had Kannuki-san not pounded on his door and threatened to drag him out of bed if he didn't get up. She didn't need to see his bed until he'd done some laundry.

It started with a slight chill in the shower. Nothing too unusual; it was February and while the water was warm, the air wasn't. Instead of slowly fading as he dried off, however, the chill got worse. By the time he was dressed he couldn't stop shivering. When Kannuki-san barged in to see what was taking him so long, Hisoka was curled up at the foot of his bed shaking.

"Hisoka! What's-"

"C-c-c-cold." Hisoka interrupted before she could ask. His teeth chattered as he spoke. Kannuki-san pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.

"You don't feel feverish, but obviously something's wrong. Back to bed. Now." She frowned. "I have to take Kazusa to school, and I can't just skip work today, but I'll come home at lunch. I should be able to get a doctors appointment for you by then."

She wrapped him in blankets and brought massive amounts of tissues and water bottles into his room. A few unread books were piled on his bed. Hisoka doubted he'd read them.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Fluffy-san?" If he had felt any less miserable, Hisoka would have laughed at the name as he usually did. Kazusa had named the stuffed rabbit "Mr. Fluffy Bun" the minute she saw him sitting by Hisoka's hospital bed in October. Hisoka had continued to refer to the rabbit as "it" all through November until he heard Tsuzuki call it "Fluffy Bun-san." At that point he realized his stuffed rabbit or not, the name was permanent. She laid the rabbit in his arms; at least it felt warm. He curled up around the rabbit and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

_Pain._

Hisoka woke with a pain twisting his gut. Not a physical one that could be easily cured with an appendectomy, but a deep emotional void trying to swallow him. He felt as if half of himself had been ripped away.

"Tsuzuki!" No one heard the half-strangled yelp. As soon as he thought of the name Hisoka knew where he needed to be. He threw himself out of bed and tore through his things, searching for paper to leave a note.

_Kannuki-san–_

_Feeling better. Went to see Tsuzuki. – Hisoka_

It wasn't the best note; it wasn't even a good note. Kannuki-san would be worried, but she would at least know how to find him. She would be more worried if she came back and he was just gone. Hisoka was out the door before he noticed he still had the rabbit. He needed the company.

* * *

Hisoka wasn't quite sure why he had gone to Tsuzuki's apartment rather than his office. Tsuzuki was supposed to be at work today. His mind must not be working as it should. Obviously it wasn't. If Hisoka's mind had been giving directions properly, he would be in Kannuki-san's kitchen, waiting for Tsuzuki to come over because he would have called him. Instead he stood outside Tsuzuki's apartment with little idea of how he got there, other than that it involved more running then he normally considered possible. Panic gripped him; he dropped the key twice as he tried to unlock the door.

The atmosphere in the apartment was still, heavy, dead. Tsuzuki wasn't there. Any room that Tsuzuki was in felt light. It wasn't the over active imagination of a boy in love; Tsuzuki's presence made places better. Something was not right. Tohda was out in plain sight. Hisoka bent over the plant and saw the notes. He picked up his own, scraping the back of his hand on Rico's spines. Damn cactus. The note was in hiragana. The idiot even wrote like a child.

_Hisoka,_ the note read, _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I really screwed up, too much to ever fix. I know I can't make everything right, but I think this is the way to make things at least a little better. You need to know that none of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. I was always the one in the wrong. I don't think I'll be forgiven, but I'm sorry. It will be better for you once I'm gone._

"Idiot!" Hisoka tore the note up unfinished. He didn't need to read the rest. The only part of any importance was the signature, in neat kanji – probably the only ones Tsuzuki knew. Tsuzuki Asato. He wished he'd bothered to teach Tsuzuki the kanji for Hisoka. It was a stupid, girls' name but it would have been nice to see Tsuzuki write it.

Hisoka found the yukata he'd worn on Halloween. He took off his clothes and slipped it on. It wasn't quite appropriate dress for the occasion, but it was better than jeans and the obnoxious orange sweater he'd put on that morning when he was too cold to consider fashion. There was no bedroom mirror, so everything else needed to be done in the bathroom.

He really didn't want to go in the bathroom.

"Idiot." The word was too soft to be a scolding. Seeing the pale corpse in the pink water hurt more than the note. Suddenly tired he sat on the floor, crying softly. There was a stain on the carpet just outside the door. Sure, Tsuzuki had known what he was doing. Hisoka wiped the tears from his eyes and continued his work. Taking care not to wet the yukata, he let the water drain from the bathtub. The pink water would not do. While it ran down he washed his face, eliminating any trace of his earlier tears. He combed his hair, then turned his attention to the corpse.

The water had taken with it all of the blood. The skin was still damp, but the hair was dry and messy, as usual. Hisoka combed it back so it wouldn't cover Tsuzuki's face. Hisoka jumped back when he saw the open eyes. The purple that was so striking in life was even more so in death, though in death it was rather unpleasant. Such a vacant expression did not fit Tsuzuki at all. He pressed the lids down with his fingers and climbed into the tub. There was nothing else to do. The situation was far from perfect, but under the circumstances, it was the best he could do.

"You really are an idiot." Hisoka addressed the corpse. "Didn't you think I'd want to be with you? I decided a long time ago, that my place to come home to is here, by your side. Wherever you're going, I am going too. With you, Tsuzuki."

Hisoka laughed. Hadn't he dreamt of Tsuzuki hard beneath him? Not quite in this way. He leaned forward and gave the dead lips a final kiss. He wrapped his fingers around Tsuzuki's hand, closed his eyes, lowered his shields, and reached for any emotion he could find.

Across the hall, some girl was fighting with her boyfriend.

Anger.

Downstairs, an old woman couldn't remember where she was.

ConfusionFear.

Not too far away, two people were having sex. LustDiscomfortPainWantNeedMustHaveJoyPleas-

* * *

Terrance had only been slightly worried when Asato hadn't come in to work on time. If Asato was even up at this hour, he was probably far too hung-over to actually come to work. Still, he thought it might be a good idea to visit his poor sick friend at lunch.

When he knocked on the door and it creaked open, he became very worried. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance. Plants in the wrong place. Stuffed rabbit lying on the ground. Torn paper on the floor – a note in Japanese, either for or from Hisoka. A note with his name on it.

_Tats- _

_I don't have to explain my actions to you. You know me by now and if you don't understand there isn't any way I could explain it to you. You are my best friend, though, and I owe you something. An apology for being such a pain and my eternal gratitude for every time you had to put up with me. Especially recently. A note can't say it all, but it's the only medium left. Please pass my apologies on to your wife; I've been rude to her as well as you. Treat her well, she deserves it. _

_-Asato_

_P.S. Don't let Hisoka in the bathroom. Ever. Empathy triggers his seizures. I don't know how long what's going to happen there would affect him._

Asato was right. Explanations weren't necessary. Terrance couldn't be surprised by the contents of the note. Quickly he brushed away tears. Why was that man involved every time he cried? Emotions firmly under control, Terrance decided to take a quick look in the bathroom before calling the police. He opened the door.

_Don't let Hisoka in the bathroom._

_Ever._

The bodies were contorted into what would have been terribly unpleasant positions for people in life, the boy's body in particular. His hand appeared to be gripping Asato's so tight as to have broken fingers. Acutely uncomfortable, Terrance checked each for a pulse. None. He left the room before he could start crying again. He had phone calls to make.

He would not be pleasant company for some time.

* * *

Please don't hurt me! I'm just not very big on unrealistic happy endings. Anyway, obviously there isn't going to be a sequel, but as I've mentioned, there may be a prequel about Terrance and Asato if enough inspiration (read as reviews) is provided. 


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